


Black Sails

by martykate



Category: Black Sails
Genre: "the black", Cuba, Edward Teach - Freeform, F/M, Naussau, Ned Low - Freeform, Pirates, Richard Guthrie - Freeform, Ship, Spain, Spanish, Urca de Lima, gold - Freeform, treasure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:35:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 89,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2861777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martykate/pseuds/martykate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Flint has rescued his sister Cathy from a fate worse than death: an arranged marriage. He's brought her to Nassau so that he can keep an eye on her, and have Eleanor Guthrie help her get established on the island. Flint remembers a young girl, but that girl has grown up. She has caught the eye of Charles Vane, and has made it plain that she is likewise interested. </p><p>Cathy falls easily into the life of the island, so easily, in fact, that when she and Charles quarrel--not for the first time--she goes on the run and on a daring adventure. Now she's returned to Nassau, rumors following in her wake. She impersonated a French duchess, she robbed the Cuban viceroy of a treasure intended for the pope, but no one knows for sure.  All Charles Vane knows is that she is back, and he must win her once again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Yellow Muslin Dress

Chapter 1: Black Sails--A Yellow Muslin Dress  
________________________________________  
A Yellow Muslin Dress

Vane reflects on his first meeting with a young Cathy Flint

 

Vane sat on the beach, smoking, trying not to think about his last quarrel with Eleanor. A thing that had started so admirably—how could it have gone wrong? Why all the fights lately? It wasn't because Eleanor wanted to get married; on the contrary, she had made it plain from the start that marriage was something unwanted and undesired. Maybe his temper and his absences were finally getting to her. He shook his head, trying to shake it off. What he had with Eleanor was ending, though neither were ready and willing to concede it. A lover of long standing was different from a chance encounter. He admired Eleanor greatly, both for her brains and her beauty, but somehow it was no longer enough.

He looked idly through his spyglass to see the Walrus approaching. She'd weigh anchor soon, and her boats would put into shore. He wondered what kind of score she was bringing. The hauls had been bountiful lately, and crews of most ships were happy with the money they walked away with. It had been over a year since the British had come close to Nassau—what did they want with a lawless island full of pirates anyway? Why not leave them alone?

He watched as the Walrus hove to and the bow anchor splashed down. There was a bustling of activity on deck, and a boat being lowered, followed by a ladder. Flint was first down the rope ladder, then a figure disguised by a black cloak, followed by Gates and the bosun Billy Bones.

Vane snapped his spyglass shut. Odd that Flint or Gates weren't on deck, supervising the unloading. The Walrus was sitting low in the water, so there must be plenty of cargo in the hold. He opened the spyglass again and saw the activity on deck. Then looked down and saw the oarsmen pulling and aiming the boat towards the beach.

"What is more important than seeing to your score, Flint?" he asked, and took another look at the passengers in the boat. Whoever this mysterious passenger was, great care had been taken to obscure the view. Flint was in front, pointing out things, so whoever it was, the passenger must be a newcomer to Nassau. Gates and Billy Bones seemed to be sitting as sentries. They looked around as if they were confused themselves, and possibly thought the captain insane.

The boat reached shore, the oarsmen beached it on the crowded sand. Flint stepped out and carried the passenger to shore. Now Vane understood. The mysterious passenger stood up straight and threw back her hood, revealing a cloud of dark auburn hair. In the light of the sun it shone like the finest mahogany, waxed to a perfect shine. She turned around and looked, then her eyes rested on him.

The loveliest woman he'd ever seen, by far, thought. Tall and slim—unfashionable but it suited her. The cloud of hair was loosely braided and held back with a yellow ribbon that matched the color of her muslin dress. She looked at him and smiled, her green eyes staring straight into his blue ones, unafraid. She tilted her chin as if asking a question she dared him to answer, but before he could, Flint took her by the waist.

"Stay away from my fucking sister, Vane. She's probably the only innocent left in Nassau, and I'd like her to stay that way." He had his hand on the hilts of his sword, but Vane ignored him. He was too busy looking at the vision in the yellow dress.

"I'll find you later," Vane promised her silently, then watched as Flint led her off. He had suddenly found the cure for Eleanor Guthrie. It wasn't a girl he met, but Fate. This was a girl like no other, and he was determined to possess her. "No one but mine," he thought, "That's what you are, no one but mine, I promise." Damn Flint, the girl looked old enough to know her own mind-if she wanted him, all she had to do was say so.

He saw the furtive look she cast at him, her eyes a silent plea. He nodded and she smiled. Good enough.

"Do you know who that was?" Flint demanded. He'd not released her waist, but he was no longer hurrying her along. He stopped for a moment to interrogate her.

"Ah, let me see." She looked straight into Flint's eyes, not intimidated, "Couldn't have been Judas, he didn't have red hair. Couldn't have been the crown prince, he's back in London. Couldn't have been anyone of your crew, because they're back on the Walrus."

"That's Charles Vane," he said, exasperated, "That's the last person I want to see you mixed up with."

"Look big brother, this stops now. You agreed to get me away from England, I didn't run away so you could take control of my life. I'm going to need your help for a while but it's only temporary. And I know who Charles Vane is, and from what Gates told me, there's not a lot of difference between the two of you. You're both hard, cruel men and that's what makes you good pirate captains. But I didn't run away from a would-be master to acquire a new one. I came to Nassau knowing it was dangerous, but fore-warned is fore-armed. I made a choice to leave a comfortable life behind. Let me learn how to live it."

I'm not a child anymore, she was thinking, I put off marriage for as long as they'd let me and now I have a chance to be on my own. I've fewer scruples than you think, big brother. I stole all the money and jewels from the house before I ran, even though I was terrified they'd find out. I admit that I will need a little of your help. What I don't need is to be smothered.

For his part, Flint was surprised by what he was hearing. The letter she wrote him had been a cry for help. Now he saw an independent streak he had not expected. Bravo, he thought silently, though he had no intention of letting go his guardianship just yet. You've grown up behind my back, baby sister.

"All right, Cathy, have it your way, just permit me to help you settle in. I'm beginning to think you and Nassau are going to suit each other much better than I thought. I guess the sister I thought I had existed only in my mind."

Eleanor wiped the tears from her eyes and searched for the looking glass she kept hidden in her desk. Were her eyes as red as she thought? Charles Vane was certainly not worth her tears. What had he been anyway? Was he someone that she'd loved, or a mistake she'd made that she'd regret?

The final fight had come that morning, she couldn't even remember what it was about. He had been a part of her life for so long. She had been a girl when she met him, but had grown up and become a woman. If she'd become so wrapped up in him, she hadn't really been aware. She had never thought of herself as the dependent type, but maybe she had become dependent on him without really knowing.

In truth, she was confident and sure of herself. Her long golden hair reached almost to her waist, and was accentuated by the creamy color of her skin. She had dark blue eyes, a fine figure, and she'd received enough appreciative stares from men to know that she was beautiful.

She looked at the sad eyes that stared back at her in the mirror. She had learned she didn't need Charles Vane, but she'd grown so used to having him that the thought of his not being there was scared her a little. Now that she'd sent him away, she realized what she'd lost. Letting go had been the right thing. She was tired of petty jealousies, being ordered around, his hard hand, being taken for granted. In the end it had finally been enough.

There was a knock on the door, and Scott admitted Flint and a woman she'd never seen before.

"Eleanor," he said, a wide smile on his face, "This is my sister Catherine. I hope you can show her around and teach her the ways of the place. She's fresh from England, and knows nothing about the island."

"Of course, I'd be happy to." Eleanor was in shock, she had not known Flint had a sister, or that she was coming to Nassau, but she was simply not prepared for the woman who stood before her.

She'd never seen hair like that before, full and wispy, a shade of auburn that Titian would have loved. Unlike her brother, her eyes were a brilliant green, surrounded by black lashes. Her face was tanned gold from being on deck in the sun, but it suited her eyes and hair. Added to that her height and slender figure—this was a woman who would attract men without even trying.

She felt immediately jealous without even understanding why, but the girl was friendly enough, taking her hand and shaking it, thanking her for the promised help. Her smile seemed genuine, but Eleanor felt like the green eyes were reading her somehow, and she hoped she wasn't going to be found wanting.

Dinner at the inn. The night warm and humid, the scent of tropical flowers in the air, in addition to the smell of garbage, tar, and feces. Catherine had changed into a white dress, and put white hibiscus in her hair. To Flint she looked like something strange and exotic, not the sister he knew at all. Maybe Nassau was changing her, maybe it had changed all of them.

Richard Guthrie had invited Cathy and Flint to dinner. Eleanor watched with irritation as her father, like all the other men, stared too hard at Catherine, who chose to ignore him. The four of them ate, talked, and were drinking too much rum, but it seemed to suit the night.

Catherine kept looking around, as if she were expecting someone, Then Flint realized just who it was when Vane wandered into the inn. He was about to rise and object when Catherine put her hand on his. To his dismay, he realized that he had been out flanked and out maneuvered. Charles Vane was going to come to the table, whether Flint willed it or not. Like a sea witch, like Calypso, Catherine had set her magic to work and charmed Vane into coming to her.

She smiled at him as he approached the table. When he grew near she said, "I'm Cathy Flint, I don't believe we've been introduced."

Eleanor could not believe what was happening. He took Catherine's hand in both of his, and kissed it, lingering over it, then moving his gaze up until his blue eyes met and held her green ones.

"Charles Vane, of the Ranger. I am pleased to meet you, Cathy. Or is it Catherine?"

"Catherines aspire to sainthood, which I do not. Therefore it is Cathy."

"Since when are you a gentleman?" thought Eleanor, irritated, "Does she even know what you are?" But it seemed as if it didn't matter. For the two of them, they were the only people in the room. As she watched them, Eleanor realized how ill-suited she must seem now to Vane.

"Then Cathy it shall be. But where is your yellow dress?" He had not yet let go of her hand.

"I wanted to change," she said coquettishly, "But it is certain I will wear it again."

Eleanor wanted to scream. "Why doesn't he just take off her clothes and have her here? He looks like he wants to devour her. But she's a lady, not one of the tarts that inhabit this island. But maybe not so much of a lady, she's doing nothing to discourage him." There was something happening between the two of them that even Eleanor was aware of. Her time was over for good, Catherine Flint had been the final break between her and Vane, and Eleanor didn't know if she wanted to cry or rejoice.

 

"Journeys end in lovers meeting"


	2. A Would be Bartered Bride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cathy is discovering the freedom of Nassau, and she should be happy, just for two things. Her brother, Flint, insists on keeping her with his mistress, Miranda Barlow, and keeping her from Charles Vane. And one other thing, Vane is insisting on remaining a gentleman, and the virgin Cathy is growing madder with desire by the day.

Chapter 2: Black Sails--The Reluctant Bride  
________________________________________  
Flint had hidden his sister so well that Vane had been unable to find her. After the encounter in the inn, and he and Cathy displaying their attraction so obviously, this did not surprise him. Flint could not hide his sister forever, especially one as spirited and determined as Cathy. It was only a matter of time before Flint would find that his sister could not be restrained forever, but Charles Vane was tired of waiting.

There was no official declared feud between him and Flint, but the rivalry certainly was there. Vane thought Flint pretentious, his education and his manner of dress, suggesting the gentleman, indicated that he thought himself better than many of the pirates of Nassau. The facts were that they were probably equal in a fight and were superior earners, did nothing to quell the competition for superiority. And now Vane sought out Flint's sister, which Flint was having none of.

Eventually she would make her way to town. Fortunately he had a little time before he had to put to sea, so for now he could afford to wait. He wanted Cathy Flint and by God, he would have her. No one, especially Flint, was going to stand in his way. If he had to search the island, he would, but he hoped that she would come to him.

He waited for her on the beach, he waited outside Eleanor's offices. He stopped going to the brothels, surprising his men and Anne Bonny, but he didn't surprise Eleanor.  
She knew where Cathy was. Part of her wanted to tell Vane so that he could fetch her, another part, perhaps stronger, enjoyed watching him suffer. It wasn't jealousy, exactly, for her relationship with Vane had run its course, it had more to do with not wanting to see an innocent girl go through what she had. Cathy was bold, but she was still an innocent, and did not what Charles truly was. No, Charles Vane would not be good for Cathy Flint, but she knew well there was little she could do about it.

One day Vane saw a girl in a flowered chintz dress wandering through the market. A parasol shaded her face, but the long red hair trailing down her back could belong to no one else. He followed her, listening as she spoke, now English, now French, with the mongers as they tried to attract buyers for their merchandise.

She had trouble making her French understood by the vendors who spoke only the Creole patois, but she'd throw her head back and laugh when she had trouble. Vane watched as they gave her gifts of slices of fruit and vegetables, or a skewer of meat. She'd accept the gift as if it were her just due, rewarding the giver with a smile, and continued idly strolling through the stands.

Vane, following surreptitiously behind, noticed her leave the market and walk down to the beach. She closed her parasol and making her way towards the water, and noticed that she swayed her hips gently as she walked. He longed to put his hands on those hips, and wondered what her tall, slim body would feel like in his arms.  
Should he approach her or not, he thought, then made up his mind. He came up quietly to her side, and took her arm. "You should be careful, Miss Flint, there are some nasty characters lurking about. A girl like you might not be safe."

"And what exactly does a girl like me mean? Someone not from Nassau? A girl who is a good girl? I may not be as good as you think. Perhaps a girl like me is tired of being safe, Captain Vane, I have certainly been informed that you are not." She smiled at him, her eyes meeting his, challenging him.

She was bold, he liked that. "Where you are concerned, I am safer than most. If you wish to walk down the beach, I would be glad to escort you." He held out his arm—a thing he could not believe he was doing—and she took it. "And please call me Charles," he added.

"I am tired of being safe," she repeated, "I am tired of being smothered, tired of being treated like a child. My god, I ran away from my parents, and from an impending marriage because I was tired of my life being lived for me. I envied Flint when he was able to leave and join the navy. I saw my future being prepared for me and I wanted none of it. Now that I am free of that, I am never going to marry. I am going to leave my life as I want. What's wrong?" she asked, for she could see him smiling, amazed or amused she did not know.

"I don't know," he admitted, "You just don't seem like a girl who would run away to live among pirates on a lawless island.

"That's because you know nothing about me. Lawless pirates suit me just fine. My parents wanted to barter me off to any impoverished aristocrat who was hunting for a bride with a large dowry. I managed to put them off until I was seventeen, when another lord came calling, seeking my hand. You don't know what it's like to have to attend boring teas, parties, dinners, and balls full of tiresome people. No one ever asked me what I wanted. I don't care for society. I saw what my life was going to be, and something inside me said 'No'. So I took the address that Flint gave me, wrote him to come and get me, and I've never looked back. I want my life back."

Vane guided her a clearing at the edge of the jungle, and they sat down on the cool sand. "So, how does Nassau suit you, Miss Cathy?"

"Nassau would suit me find, if I was allowed to enjoy it. I do not enjoy the company of Mrs. Barlowe, I came to Nassau to escape the Mrs. Barlowes of this world. I have some money, and some jewelry to sell, and I could get by on my own for a while. I'm educated, and I'm not afraid to work, if I could find someone to give me a chance. And I want to eat dinner by myself, drink rum, and walk on the beach at sunset, and then go to my own room without being under someone's watchful eye."

Vane wanted to put his arm around her, tell her he would help her with anything she wanted. He wanted to kiss her and unlace her dress and have her right there on the sand. "But I can't," he told himself, "She's young, she's a virgin and I don't want to scare her. I need to take my time, I want her to be with me, willingly. I don't know what it is about her, but I know that she is meant to be with me. I don't want to frighten her, so as much as this pains me, I won't have her until I know she is ready."

"Cathy, if that is what you want, would you let me help you? I'll help you in any way that I can."

"If you truly want to help me, Charles, you could start by kissing me. I'm tired of waiting." She smiled at him, her eagerness in her eyes.

"You are a brazen little chit, aren't you?" He ran his fingers through her long red hair, then brought her to him, kissing her gently, then as his passion grew, so did the intensity of his kisses, and as his mouth sought her shoulders and the tops of her breasts, he pushed himself away.

"Not yet, Cathy," he told her, "We wait for this—and I've never waited for a woman in my life, believe me. I want you to make sure this is what you want. When you're ready," he touched her cheek gently, "I'll give you all you want and more, I promise. And we don't want your brother to suspect anything—yes." He kissed her mouth once again, hungrily, pulling away reluctantly, then stood up, and held his hand out to her.

He kept his distance as they walked back from the beach, wanting badly to sweep her away and take her to his tent. He had hurt her feelings, he could tell, but he would not give in to her, or himself. He kept looking at her, but she would not look him in the eyes. If she was angry now, it was all right. She did not realize just how much self-control he was exercising on her behalf.

He helped her up on her horse, then handed her the reins. "Cathy," he said, "Look at me." He did not like the look he saw in her green eyes, especially knowing that he had been the source. "The next time you come into town, talk to Eleanor. She may be able to help you, just don't tell her…"

"That you were involved? Why not?"

"A lot of reasons, but all you need know is that I'm not in her good graces. I'd rather she judge you for yourself, and Cathy," he paused, "I may be going to sea soon, it's time I was back on the hunt. Please be patient, I'll miss you and I'll come back when I can, but…"

"I know, you have a ship full of men depending on you. I have a pirate for a brother, remember? And I'll miss you, too. I'll try to come into town before you leave. I slipped the lease this once, now I know how to do it again."

He slapped the rump of her horse and sent her up the hill.

He did not see her for another week. He did not see her for a month. She occupied his every waking moment, even slipping in when he'd visit the brothel. He'd look every day for her horse, for a sight of a girl in a flowered chintz gown, who had hair the color of polished mahogany, but to no avail.

The whores he sought did not soothe or sate him. If he held one in his arms he remembered the smell of clean skin scented with almond soap. Each time he took one, his mind was on a slim bodied girl whose silky red hair fell past her hips. If it weren't for the physical need he had to fill, he'd quit the brothels altogether.

Why had he not taken her when she'd been so willing? Why was he suffering for doing the right thing once in his life? Why could he not get this girl who was so entirely unsuited to him out of his mind?

"Because you don't want to," he told himself. Flint was only going to win for a while. If Cathy would still have him, he was determined to have her. No more wasting time. He'd find a way to provide for her—somehow. She was the best thing ever to have happened to him—even though he had thought the same about Eleanor, he realized Cathy was different. He'd be putting to sea soon, but when he came back, he was going to change his tactics, Cathy Flint. He'd waited for too long.

In the end he delayed going to sea, but only as long as he dared. There were rumors of a merchant fleet sailing from the colonies which promised a financial rewarding prize for the lucky ship to catch them. Jack Rackham made the mistake of asking Vane if he was ready to stop acting like a cunt-struck bitch, and was rewarded with a broken nose for his trouble.

Going back to sea was his antidote for Cathy. Flint obviously had her confined, and unable to leave, he had faith that Cathy would figure a way around it. If not, he would send spies around the island and find out just where she was, and come and fetch her.

By coincidence, Flint was planning on sailing the same day. He had brought Cathy, along with the widow he lived with, to see him off. Cathy was dressed in one of her London dresses, complete with corset and hoops, and carefully arranged hair covered by a stylish hat. Her green and white silk dress made her seem older, more sophisticated, more like someone he'd imagined in a drawing room in London. She looked at him, her eyes sending him a message. "When I come back," he wanted to tell her, "Things will be different. Be patient, I will come for you, I promise.

Perhaps Cathy, or his restraint, brought him luck. He was on the hunt for just three months and managed to bag two rich merchantmen who were headed to Florida, with holds full of tobacco, silks, fine Mexican cotton, barrels of rum, and enough silver to compensate for the time he'd spent on shore. He headed back to Nassau to sell his goods, and pay the men. Even Jack Rackham seemed satisfied with their haul. So were the men, though once the goods were exchanged for coin it would be a short time before their pockets were once again empty and they would be ready to go to sea again.

And facing Eleanor was inevitable. She was the only merchant available in Nassau to exchange his goods, unless he wanted to deal in Port Royal. The arrival of Cathy had signaled the final end of their relationship, and he had seen hurt looks on her face that he could not avoid. The competition with Flint had now been complicated by the presence of his sister, and he did not want that to stand in the way of his dealings with Eleanor. Business was business, he reminded himself. As long as he agreed to keep his men's behavior in check, maybe things with Eleanor could be harmonious enough.

When the jollyboat touched the shore, he looked around for a glimpse of Cathy. Flint was unloading, too, but he saw no sign of either Mrs. Barlowe or Cathy. He sighed, he was determined to seek her out, but for right now he had business to attend to.

He threaded his way through the boats and people sitting on the beach and headed to Eleanor's. To his delight he saw a familiar figure sitting at the bottom of the steps that led to Eleanor's office. She was dressed simply in a striped skirt and white blouse, her long hair carefully braided and tied with cord. On her wrist was a silver cuff bracelet, which he recognized as one he had given Eleanor long ago.

She saw him, ran, and threw herself in her arms. He lifted her up and tucked her legs around his waist, and for some reason could not seem to stop kissing her. Then they both started laughing, and he set her down. Looking up, he saw Eleanor smiling. He hoped that meant if she'd been angry he was now forgiven. If she had taken Cathy under her wing, that was a good sign. And was Flint aware of what had befallen his younger sister?

"Cathy, why are you here? What has happened?" Vane looked into her eager, smiling face—it was plain she longed to tell him.

"I went to Eleanor, just as you said. I told her about my education, what I could do, that I was willing to work hard to prove myself to her. And that I wanted to get away from my brother, that the life I was leading was as stifling as my life in London—minus the unpleasant prospect of a forced marriage. Richard Guthrie decided to give me a chance, and I must not have disappointed. I work with him and Eleanor now. They've given me a room for a pittance, and with what they pay me, and the money and jewelry I took from home, I'm safe from Mrs. Barlowe and my brother. I'm my own person, and free—at last."

Vane was about to reply when he heard a familiar, and unfriendly, voice shout out his name.

"Vane", Flint's face was redder than his beard, "Get away from my damn sister." His hand was on the hilts of his cutlass, he clearly meant business. 

Vane tried to drew his weapon, trying to shove Cathy behind him. He had no idea that she'd slipped his dagger from its sheath, only that she was being uncooperative, and insisted on standing in front of him.

"Your damn sister doesn't want anything to do with you, brother." Vane admired her fearlessness, but he didn't want it to get either of them killed. "I told you," Cathy continued, "That I didn't intend to live under your thumb, that's why I escaped England. I've had enough of being kept prisoner by you and your whore. The two of you can go to hell. If you want children, have them, but you've mistaken me for one of them, and I'm not."

The Flint temper evidently ran in the family, Vane decided. For once he had the cooler head. "Cathy, get behind me," he whispered, "And for God's sake, don't argue. Run up to Eleanor and stay with her. I can handle your brother, believe me." But he still didn't notice his dagger was gone, Cathy noted with satisfaction.  
Eleanor held out her arms and Cathy ran to her. They held onto each other as the best fighters in the West Indies began to battle over a slim, red headed girl. Swords were drawn and the opponents looked each other in the eye, waiting to see who would strike first blow.

"Don't worry," Eleanor whispered in her ear, "If Flint kills Vane, I think he has a pretty good idea what will happen—you'll refuse to have anything to do with him for a long time and he doesn't want that. If Vane kills Flint, he'll feel guilty because he killed your brother, and he doesn't want that on his head. Flint knows you've declared your independence, and he won't be able to take you back. Charles' fight is to show Flint that you're with him now, and there's nothing to be done about it. They have to do this so they each can save face. Patience now Cathy, it will be over soon."

To Cathy it didn't seem that way. The fighting had begun in earnest. Two opponents, both deadly with a sword, were going all out to prove that they were the better. Sunlight flashed on the blades, sparks flew, and the clanging on the blades grew louder. At one point Vane switched his sword hand and struck Flint in the face with his fist. Flint was only momentarily startled and came back with a vengeance, but Vane had gained the upper hand and knocked Flint's sword out of his hand.

The weapon lay just out of reach. Flint stretched out his hand to grab it, but a foot was pressing down on the blade. He looked up and saw his sister, a dagger in her hand that she got from somewhere, pointing it straight at him. For a moment, he wondered where she got the knife.

"It's over, brother, time to make your peace with letting me go. Your Mrs. Barlowe will be as glad to be free of me as I'm glad to be free of her. Even if you'd managed to kill him I would not have gone back with you anyway." She stepped off his sword and handed Vane's dagger back.

Flint nodded, "All right, Cathy, have it your way. But you're making a mistake, you'll see."

"Ah, but it's my mistake to make. You've certainly made enough of yours, haven't you?" She went over to Vane and put her arms around his waist. He looked at Flint, his looking plainly saying, "let her go".

"Come on Flint," said Eleanor, "taking him by the arm, "We have business to discuss," and he followed her into her office.

Eleanor cast one last dirty look at Vane, and he and Cathy laughed. "I have business, too, and you might pretend that you have work to do. I'll find you just before sunset, and if you don't see me, wait for me, I'll be right here."

Sunset.

They walked on the beach, their arms around each other. She broke from him briefly to wade in the water, looking at the colors of the sunset reflected in the ocean. She danced around on the sand, then came back to him, laughing.  
The sky darkened and they felt alone and safe. His tent stood ahead of them, and for a moment he hesitated, but she pulled him towards it. "Now?" she whispered, and he answered by scooping her up in his arms, and carried her into his tent.  
"Now," he answered and started to kiss her.  
________________________________________


	3. The King's Privateer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After yet another quarrel where Charles was too free with his hands, Cathy has escaped to France to enjoy the charms of Paris during the reign of Louis XV. There she meets a privateer who is familiar with the port of Nassau, but not here, much to his regret, he charmingly tells her. In the meantime, Vane has been drinking more, and become more vicious, even with his own crew. Rackham wishes that he would return to Eleanor Guthrie and the advantages that relationship implies. Cathy, in the mean time, muses as to whether or not she wants to dally with the handsome Captain Mortemart--or not.

Chapter 3: The King's Privateer  
________________________________________  
Francoise Mortemart looked around him, wondering why he had bothered to come to this party. He usually eschewed the usually boring public balls in favor of these small, darker parties, but this one was disappointing him. His friend Eugene had tempted him into coming, "I promise you, mon ami, it will be worth your coming. I have something that will both surprise and delight you." Well, so far neither surprise nor delight had materialized.

Suddenly the sound of laughter. A light, yet throaty laugh, the laugh of a female who genuinely meant it. He'd like to hear her laugh again, the noise tickled his ear delightfully.  
He looked across the room to see her standing there. She stood out from the other women in the room, taller, slimmer, and her hair was its natural dark auburn color, not powdered grey white as was the fashion. Her dress, too, set her apart in its stylish simplicity. The silk was woven with a mossy green and bronze colored stripes, over a bronze silk petticoat. She did not rely on an excess of lace and ribbons, and decoration, the elegance of the dress was in its cut and simplicity. The neckline was as low as any other in the room, and revealed a generous expanse of golden-skinned breasts.

She was talking to two young dandies, laughing at their jokes as though she found them hilarious. She spoke an excellent, though accented French, and in that rich voice the accent was charming. The domino she wore disguised her eyes, but she had a tempting full lipped mouth that was devoid of all but a little rouge.  
The dandies were kissing her hand, bidding her a regretful farewell. She nodded her head, gave them a dazzling smile. She watched them go, then looked about the room, observing what, he did not know, but if he left her alone for too long, someone was sure to be there, ruining his chances.

He grabbed two glasses of champagne, and went over to her. "Madam…"

"Mademoiselle," she corrected.

"Mademoiselle. It is warm in here, and I was afraid you might be thirsty." He handed her a glass of champagne and was awarded with a glorious smile. Close up, she was even more beautiful than he'd expected. She wore a floral fragrance he could not place that reminded him of the nights he'd spent in the tropical ports. Jasmine, that was it, night blooming jasmine.

"Please allow me to introduce myself, I am Francoise Mortemart, Captain Mortemart of the King's Privateers. He hoped he impressed her, he was usually successful with the ladies. He was of above average height, well built (well, his middle had grown a little thick since he had not been at sea for a while), and his fair good looks with the blond hair and blue eyes usually drew women to him.

"The King's Privateers? Really. I had heard that Louis XIV had drained France's coffers and that your king was rather lacking in ready cash. Tell me, have your efforts been successful?"

He hadn't even gotten her name and now she was quizzing him. But she cast him an innocent smile, as if to show that she was teasing—only he wasn't sure if she was. France was in a dire state financially, and her king showed every inclination of following in his grandfather's footsteps, it was likely that France was going to suffer financially for years to come.  
"Mademoiselle, please forgive me, I do not believe you have given me your name." He gave her the smile that had won so many hearts, "Such a beautiful young woman must certainly have a name that matches her beauty!"

She laughed. "If God is good to me, I will spend the rest of my days surrounded only by Frenchmen! My name is Catherine. At home they call me Cathy, but that does not sit so well on French tongues. So call me Catherine, I don't mind." She swept him a deep curtsy and smiled.

"La Belle Catherine." He took her hand and kissed it. She was finding him thoroughly charming, charming enough to drive the image of Charles Vane out of her mind for the moment, who had seemed to haunt her since she left Nassau. He was looking into her eyes, "I'm devilishly charming," his look said, "you don't wish to resist me, now do you?" Devilishly charming was just what she needed at the moment. Devilishly charming was the exact opposite of Charles Vane.

She held up her glass. "Our host has provided the most excellent of champagne." She tipped her glass upside down, "Is it possible that I could have more?"

He signaled the servant. "Eugene always has the best of everything, that is why his parties are the most popular in Paris." He took two glasses off a silver tray. "He will be glad to hear that you are enjoying yourself."

She drank half then glass, then paused. "You are a privateer for the crown, yes? Where exactly are you plying your trade?"  
"Well, the Carolinas in the New World have not proved very profitable. We have taken to raiding Spanish galleons when we can. When we are successful it is very profitable. The West Indies are proving to be fertile hunting ground."

"Tell me," she said slowly, "Do you every put in to Nassau?"

"Yes, sometimes, especially to re-fit and supply. Why?"

"I live in Nassau. I've lived there since I was seventeen. I just wonder if I've seen your ship. It's mostly the pirates who come into port and sell their booty, but some privateers do come and sell their goods to the, ah, agents. Nassau does seem to attract all sorts, but I've come to love it, the good and the bad. I'll pass through England on my way home, but I am not returning there to live, ever."

"Well, cherie," it was the first time he used the endearment, "I don't blame you. The English are bores and their food is dreadful. Not to mention the fact that they are devoid of manners."

"And they don't know enough to keep a woman's secrets, as a Frenchman might?" She smiled at him playfully.

"Well, cherie, do you have any secrets that I should keep? I promise, as a good Frenchman, I would not reveal them."

"Yes, but none that I would care to tell. I keep my secrets to assure my safety." She clinked her glass against his, the crystal ringing sweetly.

"Tell me one secret," he begged, "I would have one that I would keep for you, on my word."

She drew back from him, "All right, here is a harmless one. For several years I have been the paramour of one of the worst pirates in the Caribbean. In fact, he is the reason I left Nassau—I had no other way of getting free of him. I was young and foolish when I met him, and I don't know if he became love or habit. I have been hiding from him in Europe, but I am homesick I am going back. I only hope that he has found someone else and forgotten me. I am afraid that I am foolish enough that I might take him back. And I think I need more champagne, all this talking is making me terribly thirsty, only I do not want to get too drunk."

"Shall we adjourn then to somewhere else?" Francoise was determined that Catherine should not escape him. It was all too likely that she would disappear like something in a fairy tale. As big as Paris was, the social circles were small. He probably knew something about every person in the room. The party had promised to be boring until he laid eyes on Catherine. Now he had found an exquisite new toy that he wished to keep from anyone else. If only he could convince her to leave with him.

She looked at him, sizing up the situation, making up her mind. "I am afraid, Monsieur de Mortemart, that may not be possible. I have only known you a short time, and I fear you seek to bed me. Which would not be the worst idea, but I do not know if that is what I want right now. I know I do not need to fear that you seek something from me that I am unwilling to give. In fact, I think a dalliance with you would probably be delightful, I just do not know if I am in the mood tonight." And I don't know if you are what you say you are, she thought.

He took her hand and kissed it, his blue eyes staring straight into hers. "Does that mean, cherie, that I may hope that we will have that dalliance soon?"

"Yes, very soon, I only wish to beg off for tonight." I may have questions to ask you, and sex would only get in the way.

"Well then," he said gallantly, "May I summon your carriage for you?"

"Alas, I do not have one. My stop in Paris has only been for a few months duration. I must return to Nassau before the storms begin and the voyage becomes too hazardous."  
"In that case, cherie, I insist that I take you home in my carriage. No Frenchman would do less." He added, and thought to himself, there is more to this girl than meets the eye. I have never met anyone so coy and open at the same time.

"Oh," he said suddenly, "Before I do so." He removed her mask, revealing an exquisitely lovely face. He took that face in his hands, and kissed the tempting lips. "I must have you, cherie, if not tonight, then soon."

She laid a slender hand against his cheek. "I have told you that you may, have I not? And I am a woman of my word. I want you, too. I need something to remember when I sail back to Nassau. You would be a most pleasant memory to keep."

He had the footman summon his carriage. He put her black velvet cape over her shoulders and helped her into the carriage, then followed. As the carriage took off he placed himself close to her, then started to kiss her neck and her shoulders. Encouraged by her response, he found her mouth, then moved to his hands to her back to undo her laces.

"No," she said and started to struggle, but he only laughed. Then she switched tactics, murmuring endearments, not fighting him, and he let her go, thinking she had given in to his demands.

Until he felt the stiletto at his throat. "Did I not say, cher, that I was not in the mood tonight? Please don't make me use this, you really are too delicious a man for me to want to hurt you." She shrank back on the seat, holding her dagger to that he could see it in plain view, tapping it against her hand.

He decided it would not be a good idea to try to take it from her. What had she said, that her former paramour was one of the most notorious pirates in the Caribbean? He had had women object to his advances before, but none had pulled a knife on him.

She lifted the hem of her skirt, and slid the knife back into the scabbard fastened onto her calf. "I so hoped I would not have to resort to this," she said.

"Well," he said, "Would you be amenable to dinner tomorrow night? You did say that it was this night that you were not in the mood?"

She took hold of him and pressed her lips onto his, kissing him slowly and deliciously, "I will be in the mood tomorrow, I can assure you. Just. Be. Patient."

"Mademoiselle, I do not see how that will be possible, but I shall try." He let her off at her hotel, and watched as she disappeared inside. "Tomorrow night then, cherie, but I will make you pay for making me wait. I cannot wait to see if you are that same delicious golden color all over."

A half a world away…

Vane had been drinking rum and throwing rocks at seabirds. He was at that stage of drunk where an attempt at conversation could result in a fight and the crew conscientiously avoided him.

Jack Rackham and Anne Bonny had been watching him the whole time. He would scoop up a pebble from the beach, wait for a target to appear, then aim the missile, sometimes having success, sometimes not. One victim had died, a few others had been crippled, but most recovered after a few minutes, then taken to the air.

"Have you heard anything about her, Jack?" Vane demanded, "What about Flint's spies? Has he located her? Where the hell is she? "

Rackham had hoped that a successful re-uniting with Eleanor would solve the problem of Cathy Flint, but it was not to be. The pairing with Eleanor had its obvious advantages, but the problem now was that Vane was still in love with Cathy, even after a two years' absence. Jack Rackham was sure that Cathy Flint would return to Nassau, in the meantime he had the unenviable task of trying to keep his captain calm.

"Flint believes that she may try to seek out her parents before she returns to Nassau. She is now past age of consent, she may try to make her peace with them. It is almost certain that she will come back here. She's managed to elude the Spanish all this time. Flint's spy in England has had people looking for her. They think she may be in Paris now. She'll be back while sailing is possible. She wouldn't try to return home if there was the danger of a storm."

Vane shook his head, and Jack and Anne walked off. "It would be advantageous for him to remain with Eleanor Guthrie. We would reap all sorts of benefits from that alliance, and he knows it. Instead, he's pining like a schoolboy over a wench that left him two years ago, how can he know she'll even want him back if she does return?"

"Because he's in love with her, you fool," Anne thought, "The man is lovesick, he wants her back. He didn't appreciate her while he had her, and now he's blaming himself and rightfully so. The alliance between Vane and Eleanor won't last because they don't love each other. He's in love with Cathy Flint, and I'll wager she's still in love, too. There were never two people more crazy for each other."

Back on the other side of the world.

Cathy stood, examining herself in the mirror. She had chosen her rose pink gown, her most seductive. The sleeves were daringly short, and the décolletage was much lower than decency allowed. She'd pinned up her hair on the back of her head, a few strands hanging seductively down her bare back.

She felt like a victim preparing herself for sacrifice, but it was all good. She'd made a promise, and had made up her mind to enjoy herself. Mortemart was handsome, smart, and as a privateer, she felt herself in familiar territory. And from the way he kissed, the young captain might possibly know his way around a woman's body. There had been no lover since Venice, and she was in the mood to let herself be ravished. Of course no one but Charles…

Don't even think it, she told herself severely, you told yourself that you would erase him from your mind. Not think about him again, ever. But that wasn't the case. Every time she'd taken a lover, she had closed her eyes and pretended it was Charles making love to her. She had tried without success to stop it, but wasn't able. She was returning to Nassau because she missed him so much it hurt. Charles had taught her how to love. He had taken a scared but eager virgin and turned her into a woman. No matter how bad things might get, they had managed to keep their love alive. No two people burned for each other the way they did. Well, not quite true, she reminded herself, after the last disastrous quarrel she hadn't been able to escape him quickly enough.

But now she missed him. She'd use the good captain to help her get passage across the channel. She'd make a token visit to her parents, then hurry back to Nassau.

And perhaps to Charles Vane.  
________________________________________


	4. The Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cathy Flint is returning to Nassau after more than two years. In a move that surprised even her brother, she robbed the Viceroy of Cuba, then fled on a Genovese boat to Italy. Now with loot stashed safely in Genoa and Zurich, she is returning home, having eluded capture by the Spanish due to the famous Flint luck. But will she be lucky with Charles Vane? Has Eleanor once again claimed Charles for her own? Just what waits for her in Nassau after living in Paris?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the original first chapter of my "Black Sails" saga, but I have had to rethink things as the story progressed. I originally had Cathy older than Eleanor, then realized that wouldn't work. Ah, the writer's life

Chapter 4: The Homecoming  
________________________________________  
Gates and Flint watched as the brigantine hove to, close enough to read the letters that spelt "The Walrus" in plain view. "Ahoy," someone from the big brig shouted, and they watched as a jollyboat was lowered, and a figure in a black cloak was making his way carefully down a rope ladder into the boat.

"Captain, he looks like a merchantman, why the hell would he be taking the chance to come so close? And look, there's another boat holding a trunk and a chest if I'm not mistaken. Now who the hell would take the risk of hailing us? They're a sitting duck, if you ask me."

Flint turned to him, a broad grin on his bearded face. "Who indeed, Gates, if not my sister Catherine. That wench could charm the devil himself into giving her a lift. Give the men the order to bring her aboard. Damn their superstitions, they're are going to have to live with a woman on ship for a while."

He watched as the boats came to the side of his ship, and a rope ladder and cargo net fell down the side. Catherine smiled up at him as she deftly mounted the ladder, holding on to her portmanteau. She could still climb like a monkey, he thought, he wondered idly if she still knew her knots, or if the rigging would intimidate her. Not likely, Catherine was afraid of nothing.

He helped her on board, only slightly embarrassed as she threw her arms around him hugging him tightly. He held her at arm's length, "Let me have a look at you, Miss Catherine," then pulled her close and kissed the top of her auburn curls.

The men in the jollyboats were still waiting. "Flint," she said, "I told them that you'd give them safe passage in exchange for taking care of me. You're not going to make a liar out of me, now are you?"

He threw a small bag of coins to one of the boatmen and raised his hand. "Tell your captain thanks for taking care of my sister. And unless he's a privateer, it's best that he avoids these waters in the future, for gentlemen of fortune make their way here. You've brought me my dearest treasure and I thank you." The boatmen lowered their heads and turned the boats around and made their way back to the merchantmen as quickly as their arms could pull. Their encounter with Flint would make its way into legend, and in the future, their captain would avoid the Caribbean at all costs.

Flint wished he could wipe off the ridiculous smile that must be on his face. He put his arms around Catherine's shoulders and introduced her to his crew. "My sister, Catherine Fiona Flint. Anyone who does not treat her with respect and courtesy will find themselves making a quick trip to Davy Jones' locker. There's to be extra rations of grog tonight in celebration."

"That's enough staring, get back to work," roared Gates, knowing the men's concern, "No excuse for standing about idly. The master's not giving you extra grog for idleness. Now, off with ye."

"Thank you Gates," Catherine breathed, "To a man they looked like they wanted to throw me over the side, captain's sister or no. If it wasn't for…"

He put his arms around her shoulder. "There, there, Miss Cathy, I know. You're well versed in the ways of the sea, but you're brave enough to venture out upon her all the same. I know Flint is glad to see you, I've not seen him smile like that in ages. I'll put your things in his cabin, and you'll not need to worry about them." She smiled that winsome smile that he'd first seen on her arrival in Nassau. Then she'd been all red curls and green eyes, fearful yet curious about the circus that was Nassau, Bahamas. Now she was grown up and self-assured, but the smile had not changed.

She also still knew sailors. She looked around, seeing the furtive stares. Not curiosity, but open hostility if she met their glance. "Damn sailors," she thought, then said out loud, "Buy a girl a drink big brother?" Lord knew that she could use it.

He took the hint and picked up her portmanteau. "Come on," he said, and made his way into his cabin. He settled her into a comfortable chair, then pulled a bottle of rum out his desk. He took two glasses from a cupboard and poured generous portions into each.

She drank deeply, savoring the flavor. "Ah, good old Cuban rum. I'd sworn I'd never again drink it in my life. I never thought I'd ever say this, but I'm tired of fine wines, and brandies, and champagne. I want to eat some good Creole cooking, and go to sleep in a bed and not worry that I'm going to hear pounding on my door."

"A little bird told me you were on the run from the Cuban authorities. Something about some treasure stolen from the Cuban viceroy." He raised his eyebrows, eager to hear her reply.

"Some treasure he intended to give to the pope. Much more than he needed. I personally gave the Pope a lovely crucifix of gold and emeralds, and a rosary of the same. He gave me a lovely little gold medal engraved with his name and face. It was so easy to get an audience when I showed the officials my intended gift. Gave me his blessing for my journey and everything. Almost enough to make me want to go back to the Church—almost." She smiled at him.

"Well, my little caper sent me on quite a journey. I caught the first ship leaving Havana Harbor and headed to Italy. I banked some of my loot in Genoa, then put some in a bank in Zurich. It's funny how if you have enough money, bankers don't care what you want to deposit." She took another drink then looked at her glass thoughtfully.

"Oh, almost forgot. I brought you this from France." She pulled out a bottle from her portmanteau and handed it to him. "The finest brandy in France. I went there after I left Zurich. I settled in Paris for a few months and had a new wardrobe made—Pa was always too cheap to buy anything not English, remember? I caught a ship from Calais to London, then from London I headed to Martinique. When I saw the Walrus I asked the captain to please take me to her. A handful of gold coins and a promise of safe passage convinced him to do it. So here I am. Hopefully you are headed to Nassau, because after all the fun I've had, staying on shipboard would be tremendously boring."

Flint scratched his head. "I wonder how you do this. This is the second time you narrowly escaped being caught by the Spanish. I know men who have not had half the luck you do, but aren't nearly as foolhardy. But yes, to answer your question. We're a day away from Nassau and I plan on putting into port for a while. Will that suit your ladyship?"

"Quite," she said haughtily, "And if you are short of cash, big brother, I can help you out, only don't tell anyone but Gates. I'm more than set up for life with what I have with me, and I could help you out, too. I'd like to find someplace to settle where the Spanish can't find me, only it's not going to be Europe. Maybe Italy, but not right now. The Indies suit me just fine. I'd never be happy in England. Too cold and grey. And the Seychelles are out—I don't know any of the pirates there, so I'd best stick close to home. As long as home won't send me to a Spanish prison."

"Well," said Flint thoughtfully, "New Orleans might suit you, if the French take it back. Port Royal perhaps, but after that earthquake, that's a place I'd avoid. I don't think Martinique would be exciting enough for you, and now you'll have to avoid Havana."

"A change of subject: When were you going to tell me who's in port?"

Aha, he thought, now we come to it. "Well, Teach hasn't been around for quite a while, but your old friend Charles Vane and the Ranger are there."

"Vane doesn't concern me. Wasn't he skirting after Eleanor Guthrie? Isn't she a little old?" "Old" was five years older than Catherine, Flint mused, and grinned at her. "Vane was a mistake, Flint. Half the time we were trying to kill each other. The first time he hit me, he learned I wouldn't put up with it, but that didn't stop him. He liked it when I fought him, it aroused him, made him hard. A pistol was the only thing that could make him see reason."

"But you put up with it for…" he interjected, but she interrupted.

"Too long. Too damn long. Okay, I desire the man, but I hate him. If Eleanor's in his clutches I feel sorry for her, but she's perfectly capable of taking care of herself. I want a man who isn't go to hang or die a gruesome death. Vane's going to swing, it's inevitable. He's arrogant enough to think he can do anything he likes." She held up her hand, "I don't want a man who'll bore me, thanks to you. I may just settle in Rio and learn Portuguese and party until I'm too old. Maybe there is no man for me, so I'm free to do just as I like." She leaned forward, "Now, are you going to let me climb the rigging and help work the sails?"

The Walrus was due back any day. Charles Vane, captain of the Ranger, had a lot of questions for Flint regarding the proposed raid of the Spanish treasure galleon. Eleanor had suggested that he might ask Flint if he would need help, which was not unlikely. The Spanish would have plenty of guns and cannons, and would be more than Flint might be able to handle on his own. And it was not recommended that he let himself be captured by the Spanish.

He thought about the rumors he had heard of Flint's sister. She had disappeared from Nassau only to wind up in Havana. How hard had it been for her to seduce the Spanish viceroy and get her hands on his treasure? Catherine was smart and clever, as well as beautiful. Catherine had left him—admit it, you drove her off, he told himself—leaving him heartbroken, until he noticed that Eleanor McGrath had lost none of her golden loveliness while he had been so infatuated with the young Cathy Flint.

When had he decided that he was attracted only to beautiful, intelligent women who were far above him? He had seen Eleanor's blond beauty without seeing that beneath that lay a steely ambition. When her father disappeared she had taken over his business and ran it far better than he had. She was clever, shrewd, and he had underestimated her as he had Catherine. When she, too, had left him, he swore that he would nothing to do with these self-assured women and sought the company of the whores in the tavern who demanded nothing of him. But settling for brass coins after possessing gold sovereigns had proved unsatisfactory.

He noticed a ship had appeared on the horizon, headed for Nassau. He grabbed the spyglass of the man standing next to him and recognized the sleek lines of the Walrus. Flint stood on the bridge with Gates, along with someone he didn't recognize. At the pace she was traveling, she'd be dropping anchor in the harbor soon. He sighed and, uncharacteristically for him, handed the man back his spyglass. He headed to a waterfront inn to drink until he had changed his mood—if not to fair, then to foul.

When he emerged from the tavern, the Walrus' jollyboats were being rowed to shore. Flint sat in the prow, with someone behind him that Vane could not see, then Gates and Billy Bones sitting behind. The oar men beached the boat and Flynn swept the mysterious passenger into his arms and carried her to shore, setting her on dry sand.  
A woman, tall and straight, swept the hood of her cloak back from her head and turned around. Vane found himself staring straight into the green eyes of Catherine Flint.  
"Son of a bitch," he said to himself.


	5. Renunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cathy is re-united with Vane, and both feel the pull of the old feelings, forgetting why Cathy left in the first place. She shows her treasure to Flint and Eleanor, but is horrified to learn that her brother intends to rob a treasure flotilla, which could be certain suicide. She tells Flint and Vane that she does not intend to watch them hang at the execution dock--it would break her heart, but knows they intend to proceed anyway despite her warnings.

Chapter 5: Reunion  
________________________________________  
"Son of a bitch," he breathed. She was more beautiful than he remembered. "Hello Cathy," he said, wondering where he found his voice because he found himself falling into the deep wells of her green eyes.

"Hello Charles," she answered, her voice soft and breathy. He had gotten to her, her eyes could barely meet his.

Flint took no chances, he tightened the grip he had on her waist. "Come on, Cathy," he said impatiently, "Eleanor is waiting. I told her I'd see her as soon as I got into port; we need to find a place for you to stay." He jerked his head at the men carrying her chest and trunk, and they headed towards the staircase that led up to Eleanor's offices.

Vane watched Cathy cast one last helpless glance over her shoulder as Flint half led, half dragged her towards the Eleanor's office. He suddenly realized that his hands were shaking, and crossed his arms across his chest, hoping that no one had noticed.

He knew that his presence would not be welcome, so he paid a young boy to follow Flint and his men, and discover where she was lodged. Find that out, and find out more, he told him, and he'd triple what the urchin held in his grubby hand. He watched as the lad took off after Flint's party-the boy was smart and would tell him what he needed. Tonight he was going to sleep in Cathy's bed and remind her what the two of them could be.

"Cathy!" Eleanor jumped up, and ran to her, putting her arms around her. She kissed her, saying, "I didn't think I'd ever see you again. I was sure the Spanish were going to find you. Oh, I'm so glad you've come back to Nassau—you've no idea."

And Cathy didn't, but she suspected something. Eleanor was evidently free of Charles Vane, but something else seemed to be on the mind of her young friend. Never mind that, she told herself, Eleanor will confide in you if she wishes to.

"Yes, we all know how our young Catherine takes foolish chances but somehow manages to emerge unscathed. A quality many of us would wish to possess." Vane stood in the doorway, arms akimbo, having been too impatient to wait for the boy, he decided to invite himself to the party. Flint stood up to show that his company was not only unnecessary, but unwanted. Eleanor leaned over the table to show that she was serious.

Cathy alone knew how to deal with it. She would sacrifice herself to Vane, maybe allowing herself to have a little fun in the process. "Charles, if you go away for now, I promise to take you with me to my rooms." She could hardly imagine how she'd manage to avoid it, anyway, "Please go for right now, there are arrangements I need to make with Eleanor that have nothing to do with you. Wait, do whatever, just leave me alone for right now—please? And don't listen while we discuss business."

"Of course not," he objected, "What do you take me for?"

"Exactly what you are," she retorted, "Jealous. I'm not even yours anymore, and you're already jealous."

You'll be mine soon enough, Cathy Flint, he thought, the sooner you learn it the better. But he bowed and left Eleanor's office, and found a place to wait for the urchin to find out where Cathy would be lodging. Soon enough he'd have that discussion with Flint on how they would raid the treasure galleon.

"You don't have to do this," Eleanor said as she watched him leave, and Flint interjected,

"He best not lay a hand on you or I'll slice his…"

Cathy lay her hand on his brown one. "Flint, if you wanted me to fuck him, or anyone, you'd be insisting. It's not like I haven't done this before, or given in to him when I haven't wanted to. I just wanted him out of here while we discuss my personal business. I've got a chest that needs to be secured in a place where I can get to it when I need to. I don't trust leaving it in a room, or on the Walrus. I need to have it hidden in a safe place, but since I don't want to carry around a lot of money, I need to be able to access it, or have you access it for me, Eleanor. Can you do that?"

Eleanor had heard this request before. She salaamed, "Your wish is my command, my lady. I have a place for, uh, special cargo. It's well guarded and when you need access, you just let me know. And I wouldn't mind a peek, if you didn't mind. Maybe now, before I put it away."

Cathy smiled, and snapped her fingers. The crewmen brought the chest to her, then left the room, locking the door behind them. She pulled a key out of her portmanteau, and leaned over the chest and released the locks. The hinges squeaked as she opened the lid, revealing the treasure hidden within.

Eleanor and Flint inhaled simultaneously. Inside the chest was a king's ransom in gold and jewels. Pearls as big as pigeons' eggs dangled from intricately fashioned gold chains. A crucifix encrusted with diamonds and rubies lay tumbled with gold and emerald pendants. More Rubies and emeralds lay atop a nest of hundreds of gold coins of all denominations.

Eleanor picked up a gold and pearl necklace and held it against her bodice. "I could never afford something like this, not in a million years." She put the necklace back in the chest. "I'll take extra care with this. It would never be safe on your ship, Flint."

Flint was examining the coins, running them through his fingers. "I'll wager some of this is pirate's loot. There's too many different coins, and no ingots stamped with the symbol of Spain."

"I dumped the ingots, left them behind. Except for the design of some of the jewelry, there's nothing here that links the loot to Spain. I think this tribute was supposed to be a way of showing that Spain was going to be able to keep the passage to Europe free of pirates, and open to trade. The viceroy was a liar, of course. He certainly couldn't keep it away from me, or keep me from transporting around the Atlantic."

"I'd like to sell some of the jewelry, but I don't think I'll find any buyers here. Maybe I'll go back to Venice and Genoa, but I just got home and I don't feel inclined at the moment. As long as I can store this stuff safely, I can wait as long I like."

She pulled out the necklace that Eleanor had admired. "Here," she said, handing it to her, "It's probably not safe to wear it now, but you can save it for someday." She closed the lid of the chest and locked it securely. "So here we have it, a king's ransom. If not, it's close. I'm set for the rest of my life and can even help friends. Now all that remains is to lock it up somewhere safe, so I don't have to think about it more than once a day.

"I have a place," said Eleanor, "Don't you worry. All we need to do is limit the number of people who know about it. By the way, does…"

"Vane? Oh, I don't plan on telling him, but there are probably people already talking about it, so it's probably no secret that I've brought treasure into Nassau. There's so many stories that I hope facts get lost. I'm tired, I want to go to my room. I've been on the run for two years now, I think I deserve some rest."

Eleanor opened the door, coming face to face with Charles Vane. He held keys in his hand, and two men stood behind him.

"I have your room keys, my men will move your trunk. I think it's time you got some rest, Cathy," he said meaningfully.

She shrugged her shoulders. It seems that there was one more thing she'd intended to tell Eleanor and Flint, but right now she couldn't remember. Flint took her in his arms and held her tightly, then looking up at Vane, he said, "If you harm even the smallest hair on her head, you're a dead man, there won't be any saving you for the hangman's noose."  
Vane nodded—Flint was serious. He snapped his fingers and his men picked up her trunk. "We'll see you for dinner, then, we need to talk." He took Cathy's hand and led her to a room that faced the ocean, away from the noise of the town.

The men followed with the trunk and left it in the room. "Tell Jack I'm to be left alone a few days. If he needs me, he can send Anne Bonney, and it's only if there's an emergency. Otherwise, you don't know where I am or who I'm with, understand?"

They left, shutting the door quickly behind them. Cathy burst into peals of laughter. "What's the matter, Vane, are you afraid they're going to walk in on us while we're fucking? Wouldn't be the first time, now would it?"

He picked her up by the waist and spun her around. Then he took a handful of her hair and pulled her closer to him, surprising her by the gentleness of his first kiss. Their kisses grew hungrier and deeper and he unlaced her bodice so his hands could find her breasts. She looked at him for a moment, then gently pushed him away and removed her gown. She started undoing the buttons of his shirt, saying, "I want to remember how you feel." After that there was no opportunities for words.

What felt like minutes, but was actually hours, later he woke to find her with a basin and ewer, washing. "What are you doing?" he demanded and she answered,"Now, what does it look like? Seems like you ought to do a little of it yourself. No more nooky for a while, I want my dinner and I want to talk to my brother. If you intend to hang around me all the time you should bring some clean clothes. I'm very big on washing, remember?"

He smiled, knowing better to say anything, and took the bath sheet and bar of almond soap and began to clean himself. He watched her slip a pale blue silk sack gown over her head, the gold threads shimmering in the material. She picked up her silver backed brush and began to untangle her auburn curls, her eyes never leaving his as she brushed her long hair.

Bathed and dressed, they wandered down to the inn where Eleanor and Flint awaited them.

Cathy's return had brought back bad memories for both Flint and Eleanor. His sister had disappeared from Nassau without a word. He had searched frantically for her for days, until Eleanor had word that Cathy had boarded a ship bound for Cuba. What she was doing, he did not know, until rumors had reached him that she was on the run from the Spanish.

Soon after Cathy's departure, Vane had taken notice of Eleanor. She had been repulsed, and flattered, and had given in to a man she knew was no good for her. His skills as a lover had overcome her dislike of him, and finally knew why Cathy had stayed with him for so long. Eventually, she realized why Cathy had left, and had sent Vane packing. Things were uneasy between the two of them, and she hoped that with Cathy's return she could come to an a sort of truce with him—and be left alone.

They came in, hand in hand, and for once Vane looked truly happy. "He treats her differently than he treated me," Eleanor thought somewhat resentfully. Cathy was younger, and less experienced than she, but she had spent two years in Europe, and had a self assurance and maturity she had not possessed before. She wondered if Cathy truly knew what she was doing now.

They sat down at the bar and Flint shoved a half-eaten chicken and a loaf of bread at them. "We didn't want to wait for you," he said, which Cathy seemed to find funny. There was little conversation as she and Vane ate, but at last she asked Eleanor, "Is there someplace private where we can talk."

Eleanor nodded, "Come up to my rooms," she said swept up the bottle of rum from which she and Flint had been drinking. They followed her up the convoluted stairs that led to her rooms at the top of the building. She gathered four glasses, and poured some rum into each. "What's on your mind, Cathy?"

"Flint, Vane, do you really intend to go after the Herca de Lima?" She received no answer so she assumed that they did.

"The Spanish never send their treasure galleons out unescorted, you know. And even though the Spanish government is bankrupt, that doesn't mean that it won't be guarded."  
"They send out two treasure ships at a time, with a flotilla. They'll split the fleet and meet up in Havana. You'll have to attack before they hit blue water. Teach* is the only one I know who's successfully chased the Spanish away from their salvage operation and robbed the treasure."

"You don't have enough men, you don't have enough guns. I saw a treasure flotilla when I was in Havana, and it practically filled the harbor. The galleons are top heavy from all the cannon, even though there's tons of treasure in the hold. If you think that the two of you can take her on your own, you're crazy. If you try to enlist another ship, you're crazy because the more people involved in this, the more loose lips are about. When it comes to gold fever, people just can't keep from talking. And if the Spanish hear even the tiniest word about a coming raid on their flotilla, they'll either cancel this year, or go after who they think is responsible."

"It's easy for you to say 'don't do it', Cathy, because you're set now. Vane and I need this ship. If we can pull this off, my days as a pirate are over. There'll be enough left after I pay off bribes and my men that I can leave this life behind. I need this galleon." Flint sat back, feeling he had made his point.

"You, Charles, I know the life you're living suits you fine, but do you want to be captured by the Spanish? Or maybe the English if they're hunting Spanish prey? All I can say is you better find out more than a list and times, you better find out what you'll be up against. I don't want to see either of you hang or watch either of you die. You go after a Spaniard, you made damn sure you're prepared. And I may just find myself leaving Nassau and heading back to Italy, because I think what you're doing is insanity. Your only hope will be if the ship is blown off course and separated from the flotilla."

"You sound so sure, Cathy, is it really that bad?" Eleanor, at first in favor of the plan was starting to have doubts.

"The only way they'll succeed is if the Spanish are using a merchantman and they can get it away from the fleet. The moment they see you, they'll be on you. I'd offer to go to Lima and spy, but I don't dare step on any Spanish soil now. The secret lies in knowing what the escort will be like. The Spanish don't like to leave their treasure ships unguarded, and no Spanish captain takes the chance. Vane, Flint, please don't do anything foolhardy, at least while I stay in Nassau. You drive me crazy, but I love the both of you. And I still mean it: I won't stay to watch you hang or watch you die. It would break my heart."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charles Vane met a rather nasty end. He was hung at the execution dock in Port Royal, then his body was tarred and left to hang as a warning for other pirates. A rather gruesome practice that didn't really seem to stop pirates anyway. Vane was an evil and treacherous man, and it might be said that his end was fitting.


	6. Loving You Will Break Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cathy realizes that neither Flint nor Vane are willing to take her advice, and advises them that she will have nothing to do with their schemes, or use her money to help them. She learns that Max, a prostitute who was in love with Eleanor has been held responsible for the $5,000 pounds that Jack Rackham lost out of the Ranger's store. She tells Eleanor that she plans to help Max repay the debt, and give her an extra thousand to help her out. Max initially refuses, but agrees to go along with it when Vane threatens to sell her to a rice plantation in the Carolinas. Cathy learns that her nemesis Rackham is no more kindly disposed towards her than he was in the past, and decides to avoid him at all costs

Chapter 6  
________________________________________  
Cathy looked helplessly from Vane to Flint. "You don't even hear me, I'm talking to myself. All right, Flint, I'll help but don't make the mistake of thinking I'll outfit you, either of you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a walk. I don't feel like being around you at the moment." She opened the door and slammed it behind her.

"Well, Vane, don't just sit there, go after her." Flint waved an impatient hand at him.

Vane slipped out of Eleanor's room and ran after Catherine. "Oh, no, Cathy," he told her, "You're not walking the streets of Nassau alone." He tried to put an arm around her but she shook him off. Exasperated, he followed after her.

Finally she turned around. "I want to go to our beach and build a fire. Are you coming or not?" She did not wait for an answer, but kept on walking. He followed, trying to gauge her mood. He wanted to take her back to her room, but she was not in a compliant mood. When she was like this, it was no good trying to thwart her. Their private beach was not far, and if lighting a fire and swimming would calm her down, then humoring her would do no harm.

Since she would not walk with him, he kept her just ahead of him. He had no gun or cutlass on him, only his dagger, but that would have to do. Was it only the news of Flint's plans to attack a treasure ship that had her so upset? Flint tried to keep her from Nassau's gossip, but what might she have heard? She and Vane tended to keep their own council, she never questioned him unless she felt she had reason. She had learned to ignore the gossip, but sometimes rumors troubled even him.

She turned off on the path that led to their little beach. They had discovered it in the early days when he had been pursuing her. Little surprises made her happy, he'd discovered, and when she'd expressed a wish for a place where she could swim and lay in the sun, he had been happy to oblige. Before she had left him, it had become a place where she would escape to after they'd quarreled. Now he hoped that she could calm down and tell him what was really wrong.

She stood at the edge of the water and kicked off her slippers, then pulled off her dress in one move. She didn't wait for him to follow her but waded into the phosphorescent waters until they covered her shoulders. Under the light of the full moon she swam a ways out into the bay, only reluctantly coming back to shore when he insisted.

He picked up her dress and slippers, tossing them away from the water. When she came close enough he waded out and lifted her, carrying her to shore. She fought him, struggled to get away, but he was too strong. No use to fight him as he pulled off his clothes. He took what he wanted from her as he had so many times before. And she wondered again why she stood for it, why she always came back. She'd gone half a world away and still had come back—to him.

When he had enough of her, when he was sated, he pulled her close to him, smelling the salt water on her skin. She was pale, though in a few weeks her skin would be kissed with gold. When he kissed her, she didn't object or pull away, just as he knew she wouldn't.

"Tell me *Ondine," he said, using one of his pet names for her, "What did you mean when you told Flint you'd help him?"

"I thought that story was out, now. About my robbing the viceroy in Cuba of his intended tribute to the Pope. I have enough money to help him, though I won't fill in all the gaps. If you intend to do something so foolhardy as invade a Spanish fleet, you better have enough money for powder and shot."

"Ah, so the story is true. When did you do it, just after you left me? After you broke my heart?" He was hoping for a reaction, an apology, but got none.

"I was beginning to doubt that you had one. I left you, and my brother, and caught a schooner to Cuba. I made some friends and from them I heard about the viceroy sending a tribute to Rome. It wasn't all that hard to steal it, the Spaniards aren't so smart as they think-that's why the only trade they have is in silver and gold. I skipped town the night I did it and had myself smuggled onto a Genovese ship and sailed out of Havana with the treasure."

"I'm helping Flint because God knows I owe him. He got me out of England and helped me avoid a marriage I did not want. I'll owe him for that forever. Helping him with this will make us square."

"And what about what you owe me? Skipping town without a word. Flint wasn't the only one trying to find you. I finally heard that you were in Europe, I thought I'd never see you again. I stayed angry for a long time." He covered her body with his, "I kept thinking about all the men you could be with, the more I thought about it, the angrier I got."

"Did you possibly think I left because I was tired of us? The fights. You hitting me because you could. You forcing me if I wasn't willing. I was tired of all of that."  
The old words, the old reasons. He would have to tread carefully this time to make sure he didn't lose her. "I have a habit of not being good to you sometimes," he admitted, "But I've always loved you, even when I knew I wasn't enough."

"Do you want to show me how much you love me? Then kill Rackham, or better still, let me have the pleasure. He's trouble, him and that slut Anne Bonney. Calico Jack has outlived his usefulness, you could find a better quartermaster. He cost you your good terms with Eleanor, he's trying to replace you as captain. You should trust him less, much less."  
Vane got up and pulled on his clothes and picked up her dress. "We've got to go. Time for you to get some rest if you want to help me find a way to get rid of Jack Rackham. Plenty of time tomorrow for us to figure out if your brother has all that he needs to raid a treasure galleon. I would have left port, but now that you're here I feel like I need to keep an eye on you. No more slipping out of town, Cathy, you don't go anywhere alone from now on."

"If I'm to have a duenna, I'd rather it be you. Then again, I need to get away from you sometimes. I'm going to ask you once, then I'll never ask you again: do you love me, Vane?"  
He dropped her dress over her head, brushing off the sand. "Would I go through all this trouble if I didn't?"

"I want to swim." She pulled off her dress and ran back into the water. She turned and held out her hand. "Come on, just a little one."

"What the hell." He stripped off his clothes and ran into the water after her and they swam out into the bay, stopping and treading water to kiss, to look at the moon. "If I asked you a favor, would you do it, even if I might not be able to return it until after we capture the galleon?"

"Confident, aren't you? Let's go back to the beach and you can ask, and then I'll say if I will." She hated to leave the water, but she followed him back.

"How much money do you have Cathy?" She looked at him, knowing it would come to this.

"Enough. Enough to help my brother, and depending on what you want, perhaps enough to help you. How much?

"Five thousand Spanish pesos. And then a thousand to help someone get off the island and start a new life. Can you do it?"  
"You mean, would I? Does any of this affect you?"

He put his hand on her thigh. "Indirectly yes. Calico Jack would be in debt to you, and I'll give you the pleasure of trying to make him pay. But, it's for the benefit of a young Creole girl, a friend of Eleanor's, who has suffered very badly because she was greedy and naïve—and in love with Eleanor. I don't even know if she'll take it. We need the money back in our store. I was a fool to listen to Jack. Now I'm out of Eleanor's favor—she's only tolerating me because of you. I know you don't believe me, but I have my reasons for to helping the girl—and I want to get her out of my life. Maybe if she hears from Eleanor that the money came from you…"

"And since it wasn't my money to begin with, I'm trying to earn my grace by helping someone in need." She smiled at him, then gently touched his face. "Ouch, maybe need to shave a little someday. Don't tell me the whole story, one of the reasons it was good to leave this island was because of all the drama here. Do I know the girl?"

"I don't think so. Maybe, but maybe not." He paused for a moment, considering. "Why did you come back, Cathy? You were safer in Europe."

"I came back because I missed my brother. And because I couldn't live with the fact that I ran away from you. I could not live with feeling like a coward. I'm back because I love you. I realized that I could take you on your terms, as long as I imposed some of mine. We work, Vane, I don't know how but we do."

He draped her dress over her, got dressed. "You've always known where I stood. We won't end happily, but before we do, I'll see you off safely to Italy. You know how to take care of yourself. You're a better judge of character than I'll ever be—oh, I know all about the machinations of Mr. Jack Rackham. Will it make you feel better if I tell you he's terrified of you, because you're the one person he can't manipulate or fool?"

They began to walk back to her rooms. "He should be afraid of me. If he tries anything, Flint's wrath will be on his head. I've tried so hard to stay out of your affairs, and here I am, back in the middle of them again. Thank god being Flint's sister seems to be a magic talisman.

"Don't forget me," he reminded her. "Between Flint and me, you're protected. There's women on this island who aren't so lucky."

"Yes, and you both like to remind me. Maybe you should sleep in your tent tonight. I don't feel so friendly right now."

"Don't be ridiculous," he snapped, and that was the last word.

Vane woke the next morning to an empty bed. He called her, but she did not answer. He found her on the veranda pouring water a pitcher of water through her hair.  
"That damn salt, I'm trying to rinse it out of my hair. Help?"

"You could have waited," he said, but patiently took the pitcher from her. "There," he said, "Hand me the bath sheet and let me dry it."

"I'm going to talk to Eleanor this morning, and have her get me your five thousand pesos. You owe me a big favor for this—preferably Jack Rackham's head on a silver platter. Let me have Anne Bonney's, too, and you'll get extra one thousand for yourself as a bonus."

Vane laughed, "Can't spare them right now, Salome. Now's not the time to be adding new hands to the crew."

"Pity," she answered and let him pull her to him, "I was hoping you'd play Herod for me. Are you going to fetch that little Creole to show good faith?"

He threw her over his shoulder. "I guess you know better than to trust me, though I hope it will come with time. Get the money and I can get the girl. And I know you'll want to be with me when I bring the money on board. I'm looking forward to Jack's reaction to whatever you do."

Eleanor's eyes were round as saucers. "Oh, Cathy, you can't be serious. You wouldn't do that for him, would you?" She said with consternation.

"I can afford it, Ellie, and that will take care of the debt the little Creole owes him. I can save her from being sold into slavery, and I can save her from the crew. She made a foolish choice, but I can save her from it. And I can help Vane buy back into his ship. He's the only one who should be in command if they go through with this raid. There's no other on board the Ranger who's capable. I look forward to seeing Calico Jack's face when Vane brings the five thousand pesos on board, and when he learns he's in debt to me. As Flint's sister, I'm buying currency on that ship." Her smile was nothing like her usual charming one.

 

"What?" Max was astounded, "No, I won't take no money from no one," she told Vane, "I did this to masef, and I be the one who pays the price.

Vane grabbed the front of her dress. "Look you little fool. We need money for this raid coming up. I'll sell you to a rice plantation in South Carolina, and you can spend the rest of your life as a slave. Maybe I'll give you to Eleanor and let her do with you what she wants. You cost me five thousand pesos and Eleanor's favor, and I need it back. Be a good girl, not a fool, you'll wind up with a little money, enough for you to take care of yourself for a while, if you're careful. But don't cross me, you owe your fortune to Cathy Flint."

"Ooohh, she took you back." Vane said nothing. "Okay, I do it. I want me life back. Maybe I go away and not come back. Maybe I talk her into leaving too." She dodged the hand he threatened her with, and cowered in a corner until she knew he was gone.  
________________________________________


	7. An Unexplainable Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flint has disappeared, and Cathy cannot find him. With all the preparations going on the for raid on the Herca de Lima, he should be in town if he needs her help--and money. Finally she results to asking Eleanor, who has known all along and they ride up to the plantation of Miranda Barlowe, Flint's mistress. To her surprise, she is confronted by Richard Guthrie--whom Eleanor is not pleased to see--who tells her that Mrs. Barlowe may be keeping secrets of her own. Flint informs Cathy that she does not need his help, she had Vane, Gates, and Billy Bones if she needs anything. She and Eleanor ride back, anything but satisfied with the turn of events, and equally unable to do anything about them.

Chapter 7:  
________________________________________  
Later…

Eleanor was sitting along in her office. Cathy came in and sat down, contemplating what to say.

"Eleanor, where's my brother? I've looked for him, and I don't know where he is. He's not on the Walrus, they haven't seen him in the cathouses, and I can't find him anywhere. I asked Gates, but he's not being helpful, Billy Bones is saying nothing, either. He can't have left the island, he has to be here. I don't know where he's gone, so you're my last hope. Where is my brother? Do you know?"

Eleanor exhaled slowly. She didn't know what to tell her. Her father was still recovering, Flint had not come into town, so that left only the possibility that he was with Miranda Barlowe. Her dilemma: should she tell Cathy where her brother was, or leave her ignorant?

"Eleanor, you know, don't you?" Cathy pleaded. "I can read you like I can read my brother and Vane. Please, just tell me where he is—he had no business to take off and leave me, whether I was with Vane or not." She put her hand on Eleanor's arm, "Please?"

"I know where he is. I'm going out there this afternoon, I'll take you with me. I'll have your money, tomorrow. I don't know if Vane wants to get it back into the Ranger's store right away, but if he does, I'll wait for you. Just don't tell Charles where we went. My father's there, too. There's a woman Flint's staying with, I don't know who she is, I only know her name. I think she should know about you, whether Flint has told her or not."

"What is my brother up to now? These no good pirates—damn all of them. I think my brother is a madman, sometimes I'm sure of it. I could have had a nice quiet life back in England with a husband I hated, but that wasn't for me. Sometimes I wish that Nassau would sink into the Caribbean."

"Quiet? Quiet would be boring, even for you. Good afternoon, Eleanor. When will you be giving Cathy her money?" Vane came into the room, put his arm around Cathy's shoulders and kissed her. He enjoyed the look of discomfort on Eleanor's face, as he tightened his arm around Cathy.

"You mean the money she's giving you to get back the Ranger. The money for the pearls you should not have given to Jack Rackham. I'll have it in the morning, as soon as I get in my office. I'll get your money, then put the rest back in storage. Good luck retrieving it from Jack Rackham." She sat back in her chair, wondering at how he could still get to her sometimes.

"I'd settle for them leaving Nassau." Cathy had stayed out of their exchange, but wondered if there was more to it than what appeared on the surface. "Though I'd send him and Anne Bonney to hell if I could, I'd be content banishing them from Nassau. I'd like to see that they couldn't get aboard any other ship, and would have to depart here for good. Let Jack Rackham be someone else's problem—if another ship would have him."

"I doubt that." Eleanor didn't like Jack Rackham any more than her. Scott had reminded her to be cautious of all the men that they dealt with, but Rackham's shifting loyalties made him more unpredictable, and thus more dangerous. She was under no illusion that Vane was more trustworthy now that Cathy was back, he just seemed to take more care when he was with her. At least in public.

Cathy had a quality Eleanor admired greatly: patience. It had enabled her to spend weeks, even months stalking the Cuban loot. She would spend as much time as she needed to learn what she needed to know, cultivate friends, and spy out the land before she struck. Once, when drunk, Flint had confided that his sister would be one of the greatest pirates in the West Indies, only there was no crew who would understand how she worked, even when her methods brought results. Cathy's success lay in her ability to operate in the shadows. Flint and Vane preferred a quick, open fight.

"Come, Cathy," Vane spoke in directives, "Eleanor, we'll see your tomorrow morning. The sooner this is over with, the better. I want my ship back. We'll get your little Creole out of Nassau for her safety—that's my gift. Persuade her to leave, she won't be safe here."

Cathy rose and gave Eleanor the slightest of nods. "Yes, I'll meet you," it said. It was time that Flint saw his sister, anyway. She was curious as to how her father would react when he saw that Cathy was back. She doubted Cathy would use him as a fence, but might consent to use one of his contacts to sell her jewelry—unless she intended to sell it in Europe. Interesting to see what Vane would have to say about that.

Since Cathy came back, Eleanor was starting to feel some of the old yearnings for Vane. This was a different Charles Vane than the one she'd known. He was protective of Cathy in a way he hadn't been of her. The way he touched her, would stroke her hair, the way he almost seemed to hover over her, as if he would keep other men away. He was almost, "husbandly", she cringed, which was definitely not in Vane's character. And Cathy in turn seemed wifely. There seemed to be a bond between them that was untouchable.  
She was sure that the old Vane was there, the one who would be abusive, cheat, and intimidate, but it did not seem to touch Cathy. "I'll be she gives as good as she gets," Eleanor thought, "She wasn't afraid to leave him, or to come back after all this time. What is wrong with you anyway, Eleanor. You were glad to get rid of him, remember?" She was behaving like a jealous ex-lover, and that was not her. She was happy that Cathy made him happy, better Cathy than her, after all. Let Cathy deal with the problem that was Charles Vane.

They were wandering down the street, arm in arm, looking for someplace to eat. He had the look on his face that he got when he was thinking, and Cathy wanted to know what it was. She employed an old technique, one that would either break his train of thought or let her know what was on his mind. If she were to escape his company and go with Eleanor to see her brother, she needed to know his plans.

She looked up at him, a mock serious look on her face. "You look like you're thinking, Vane, that could be dangerous." She looked up at him roguishly, and he began to roar with laughter.

He swatted her playfully, but painfully on her thigh. "Behave yourself," and squeezed her shoulders.

"Well, I was wondering," she said, deliberately casual, "If you were going to be busy this afternoon." She gave him her most innocent look, and lifted her eyebrows, indicating that she'd like an answer.

"Well, yes I will. I need to meet with some of men and see how the mood is on ship. I'd like to talk to Gates and tell him what I'd like to do, find out how much he knows and enlighten him. He's a good man, but I'm the one who should be in command of the Ranger. I like him enough that I don't want to take it away from him, but I'd still like to have it returned to me. And I'd like to keep him on board—he has a good way with the men."

"I think Flint needs him. I know my brother, he's just as likely as you to go off, and then do something stupid." She looked at him, seeing the dark look he was giving her, "Don't look at me like that, you know yourself well enough to know that's exactly what you do sometimes. Gates can keep my brother in check—unlike fucking Jack Rackham who has no sense at all."

"We're back to him, eh? Speaking of Jack, what time would you like to confront him tomorrow?"

"Well, when you return the money tomorrow, it should go directly into ship's stores, right? On shore someone is either going to use it, lose it, or spend it for themselves. By the way, where are him and the slut sleeping? On ship? On shore? I want the money on the ship, so when would be best to bring us all together?"

"Slow down, Cathy, I'm of the same mind you are. I plan on using you as the surprise they don't expect. Gossip is spreading about you and your money, so when they see you with me they'll think I have access to unlimited funds…"

"Which you don't," she pointed out.

"Yes, but they don't know that. If they knew you, they'd know better. And if you can kill Jack you have my blessing, but think about your safety, first. There will be better places to get him than on my ship. There may be crew members, he may make sure there are crew members there who support him. Do you even know how to fight?"

"Flint taught me some, enough to defend myself, he said. I badgered Gates into teaching me how to use a knife, and how to use a pistol if I had to, but it seems that between him and my brother, nobody wanted to teach me much. I can hit my target when I throw a knife. A pistol is always good for fending someone off, but that's about it. I've learned to depend on my two feet—I can run fast enough to get away from trouble, if there's someplace I can run to."

"And you can swim. There, let's eat at that old woman's place. I know you like the food. And just stick close to me tomorrow. Defend yourself if you have to, but don't look for trouble. And if something happens to me, get off the ship, don't wait around."

Luck was with her. Vane had hurried through lunch and left. When he was out of sight, Cathy ran to where Eleanor was waiting with horses.

Eleanor handed the reins of one to Cathy. "I wasn't sure if you were going to be able to make it. Charles doesn't seem to let you out of his sight."

"It better not come to that," Cathy answered, "He's been unusually jealous and possessive since I came back. That's not like him at all, I wonder what changed."

Both women mounted their horses. "Maybe it's because you came back," said Eleanor, "He's different with you than he was with me. More possessive, maybe, I don't know. You seem to occupy a different place in his life than I did. I don't really know, but if I were you, I'd be careful."

"Oh, believe me, I am. Which way, Eleanor?" She followed Eleanor up the hill and they had a good gallop as they hit a level spot. They slowed and then talked quietly between themselves as their horses went at a walk.

"Tell me about this woman you say Flint's living with. Where did she come from?

"I don't know anything," Eleanor answered. "I know she took my father in at his request, but other than that? I don't know. Something does not feel right, but I can't put my finger on it. My father's been no help. He's always liked you, so I thought maybe if you were there he'd open up. Maybe if you can intercede for me. I'm in his daughter, why doesn't he want to help me?"

"Flint's my brother, what is he doing hiding from me? We come from a good family, we have nothing to be ashamed of, except what we've become."

"I think he may be trying for respectability," Eleanor said thoughtfully, "This woman looks like she was a planter's wife, maybe a widow now, unless…"

"Unless my brother helped to widow her at her request. Who is he trying to fool? I may be with a man who cares nothing for being respectable, but neither he nor I pretend to be what we're not. Unless Flint can get a King's Pardon, he's an outlaw, plain and simple. Maybe this woman is attracted to that—and the money my brother stands to make if his plans come to fruition. And what kind of brother neglects his little sister, especially when her lover is Charles Vane? I just came to Nassau and he's already disappeared. I want my brother back."

"I don't know, but we're here. Let me warn you, she acts and dresses like a lady. She may try to hide behind that. Anything you can guess about her, let me know, let father know. I'm afraid of what Flint is up to—he needs to concentrate on the coming raid."

Cathy dismounted, and tied her horse's reins. "I intend to do just that, Eleanor. Come on, let's do this."

A woman started coming down the stairs—someone she instantly recognized. Cathy did not like Miranda Barlow any more now than she had when she first came to Nassau. The Widow Barlow wore a fashionably cut dress of unbleached muslin, and a housewife's lace cap on her head, such as wealthy women wore. Her smooth-skinned oval face, brown hair and brown eyes revealed nothing. "I can't read you," Cathy thought, "There's still that something about you I don't like, but I can't it figure out."

"I'm sorry, Miss Flint, but your brother is not here. I have not seen him in quite some time." Her voice was even toned and smoothed, her face expressionless as she spoke.

Cathy wasn't buying it. "I'm good at lying," she thought, "And I can spot a liar when I hear one."

At that moment, Richard Guthrie came wandering out. "Catherine" he said delightedly, "My dearest girl-how lovely to see you." He took her hand and kissed it, giving her the smile she'd always detested and didn't trust. "You say you came looking for your brother?" He cast a glance at Miranda, "Well, I'm sure he's here, possibly upstairs. Is there anything I can help you with my dear?"

"Possibly later, but not now." She turned to Miranda. "I want to see my brother. Where is he?"

"What can all this fuss possibly be about, Catherine?" Flint came walking down the stairs, "Is anything wrong that you couldn't have taken care of yourself?"

"I’m your sister, you’re supposed to be there is I need you, yet you disappear without a word. And what is Richard Guthrie doing here? And why are you still with this woman?" She pointed at Mrs. Barlow, but the smooth face betrayed no emotions. "Why are you here and not in town?"

"Cathy, Gates is there if you need him. You have Charles Vane to take care of you, provided he doesn't take to beating you again, in which case you only need tell Gates, or Billy Bones. I'll come into town when I'm needed." He seemed to think the matter was settled and went back up the stairs.

She started after him, Richard Guthrie grabbed her arm. "It's better to leave him,” he whispered, “I fear this woman is what not she appears to be." Then he said aloud, "Why don't you girls go home now. Please, Cathy, do come back and visit. I'm sure Mrs. Barlowe would not object to your wanting to see your brother."

The smooth face showed a polite smile, as if Cathy were to be a welcome guest if she chose to return.

Eleanor spoke for the first time, "Yes, father, and I'm sure you'll show no inclination to wanting to help me. You can stay here and never come back as far as I am concerned." Eleanor did not bother to hide her irritation.

The girls went out the door together and got their horses. "What's going on here, Eleanor? Why is your father here? You're going to need him if my brother is determined to go on this insane quest for the holy grail of galleons. My brother owes me an explanation, and I'm not going to stop until I get one. I agree with your father, there's more to Mrs. Barlow than meets the eye, and I don't like Flint keeping secrets from me."

It was sunset before they reached town. Vane was outside Eleanor's, waiting. He helped Cathy down off her horse and handed the reins off to Eleanor.

"I should help Eleanor with the horses," she started to pull away, but he kept his grip on her.

"Eleanor can take care of the horses," he said, casting a look at Eleanor who nodded in agreement.

"Thank you, Ellie," said Cathy, "It was a most interesting day."

"And where were you all this time? I couldn't find you." He looked at her, he clearly expected an answer.

"Vane, I was out to solve a mystery, only all that's happened is that mysteries have piled on top of mysteries. I've forgotten what an ass my brother can be. He has a mistress, she looks like a planter's wife. And he's keeping Richard Guthrie there with him. I can't figure out what's going on—yet. It seems that I've missed quite a bit since I've been in Europe. He's up to something, and I'll bet it's no good. I don't like all these plots and intrigues, but then again, I should have remembered what it was like in Nassau."

Vane began to laugh. "You've spent two years plotting and intriguing to keep away from the Spanish, and you're complaining about Nassau? You're both sister and lover to two of the most notorious pirates in the West Indies, you should have learned by now."

"Yes, I know," she murmured, "I just wanted my brother and ran into this. He doesn't treat me any better than he treats members of his crew."

"I treat you better, I treat you far better than him. Now, let's go back to your room and go to bed before I remember how angry I was when I couldn't find you."  
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	8. Opium Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vane has lost the Ranger to Flint and Eleanor's treachery. Instead of fighting, he sinks into a morass of rum and opium, preferring to dream the days away instead of fighting his demon--Flint. Until the dreams turn into nightmares. Cathy cannot bear what he is doing to himself, if he will not fight his battles, she will fight them for him. Cathy's tears turn into a jungle rain that cools Vane's feverish body. When a vision of Flint comes to him, accusing him of ruining Cathy's life, Calypso takes the form of Cathy and destroys Flint with a puff of golden dust. Now Flint awakes, and finds that he is not alone, not deserted, Cathy has never left.

Chapter 8: Calypso  
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He'd lain there for a week, in a stupor of rum and opium. Never neat of habit, his tent was a mess, empty bottles of rum strewn around, the half full pipe of opium cast aside. Laying on his back, he stared up at the top of the tent as the opium took effect and he could pass back into a narcotic sleep.

Cathy had stayed away as long as she could. She'd kept to her rooms, hoping he could come to her, hoping he would not sink into a morass self-pity and do nothing. She missed the time they spent together, missed him in her bed.

She'd tried to be quietly encouraging, pushing him gently in the direction she wanted him to go. "You can get the Ranger back, "she told him," but if you don't try, you won't. Giving up won't help." He'd look at her and she'd shake her head. "I can't believe you won't even try."

"What can I do," he countered, "Eleanor has all but ruined me. I've lost most of my crew, they're afraid to ally with me because she's threatened to blockade anyone who sides with me."

"So fight back," she said fiercely, "Don't just give up, do something, do anything. Just don't do nothing." And that night, for the first time, she refused to stay with him, in spite of the look of pain on his face.

She waited almost a week. He had not come into town, had not tried to see her. At last she could no longer bear it. It was against her better judgment, but she would go to him. "This is going to do me no good," she thought, "but I can't stand it anymore."

Wandering through the little town of tents on the shore she smelled unwashed flesh and campfires, mingled with the smell of the jungle. "The dregs of humanity," she thought, "And I'm in love with one of the worst."

She came to the place where he kept his camp. Tentatively, she parted the tent flaps, and knelt beside him, looking at him with a mixture of pity and revulsion. His hair was dirty, he smelled, and worst of all he had pissed himself. What she saw repulsed her, but she put a hand on his forehead, then jerked it away—it was hot with fever. Carefully she looked around, found the bottle of rum and the opium pipe, though the opium was nowhere to be seen. She wasn't sure if he'd tucked into his pants pocket, but even if it was there, she dared not look. She took the pipe and the rum and stuffed them into a corner of his tent.

An idea came to her, and she ran to the market in town and purchased two bowls, two cups and a pot to boil water. Rags from the rag seller completed her purchases. Last of fall she went to an old Obeah woman whom she trusted and told her what she needed. The woman was dirty and smelled, but she pressed packet of herbs into her hands, telling her what each one was for and when to use it.

"Let me see your hand, child," the old voodoo said to her, "Let me read yer palm."

Catherine held out her hand, while the woman examined it. "Ye be facing great love and great sorrow," she said and shook her head, "Ye face a choice between love and duty. To save de one you love you gotta sacrifice t'other. If ya follows ya heart's desire, it will steer ye true, but you be weepin' all de same."

Catherine put a gold coin in her hand, then, on impulse, she put her arms around the woman and hugged her. She'd only told her what she already knew, but now she realized what she knew was true.

She packed her purchases in a basket, then grabbed a blanket from her bed. "Now you're stealing again," she told herself. She walked slowly down the beach, seeing the tents scattered around, ignoring the catcalls and blatant invitations. She dropped her purchases in front of his tent, then headed to the waterfall nearby, a beautiful place surrounded by palms and ferns, but she took no time to enjoy it. She filled a bowl with water from a pool at the base of the falls and wet one of the rags, and carried it back to where he lay, sprawled on his rug in a rum and opium stupor.

She sat back on her heels, reluctant to begin, not knowing what he'd do. She had no experience with opium or opium users. She knew what he like when he was drunk, was afraid of his violent strength if he used it on her. She knew how much remorse he'd feel if he hurt her, but he'd not feel anything if he was blacked out. She prepared herself to take the risk, though, because she could not bear to see him like this.

Lightly, gently, she began to bathe his forehead. Suddenly he grabbed her wrist in a painful grasp, but she held still, hoping he would let go. He held her tightly for a moment, then murmured "feels good" and released her. She rubbed her wrist, then began the process again. Switching to a new cloth, she began to gingerly dribble water into his mouth. She wanted to touch more than his face, but only dared to give her ministrations to his feverish forehead.

When he seemed to relax a little, she began to bathe wherever there was flesh she could reach. When the bowl was empty, she took the used cloths to the waterfall and rinsed them out in the cool waters at the base. She made her way carefully back to where he lay, hating the sight of him, and feeling helpless that she could not change things.

The demons that tormented him in in his opium-fueled dreams seemed to have gone away. Instead Cathy was sitting there crying, raining her tears on him, cooling his feverish body. "You're the only one who doesn't hurt me", he murmured. Eleanor could no longer torment him as long as Cathy was there. Even the mysterious man who kept appearing to him could not resist her strength. "My avenging angel", he whispered and wanted to wipe her tears away.

Cathy wished she could pull his pants off and get him washed off, get him clean of the filth that had accumulated on his wasted body. The cool water seemed to be soothing him, but he was still under the influence of the rum and opium. She intended to keep the rum bottle and the opium pipe where he could not reach. She looked at the herbs she'd purchased from the conjure wife. One pack of herbs would help remove the poisons from his body, and the others would help the headaches and nausea that were sure to come.

"Now, Cathy," she told herself, "Are you so arrogant as to think that you could succeed with this? You can't help him if he doesn't want to help himself." Maybe, she told herself, maybe. Maybe he can get better, but if he won't try, he won't succeed. He tells me how strong I am, that he never met a woman with a will and determination like mine—not even Eleanor Guthrie. What would he tell me right now? Not to give up. He would tell me to keep trying. He never lets me feel sorry for myself, so I won't. I'm going to bring him round."  
She felt a prickling of the hairs on the back of her neck. She felt the presence of someone behind her and turned around to see Jack Rackham. "Trying to rescue him? Be the good woman? Your love is going to cure him?" He laughed an unpleasant laugh, thinking his words could break her.

She stood up and faced him. "You know nothing about me. Don't make the mistake of thinking I'm stupid. If he'll let me bring him out of this, I will. And if I were you, I would stay away from me, and him—he's promised me he'll let me kill you. And when," she emphasized the word, "When he gets the Ranger back, don't bother to come around. I don't want you on there, you've done enough damage. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to get back to what I was doing. This is going to take time, and I won't have you wasting mine."  
She resisted the urge to kick him as he walked away from. "You fucking jerk," she muttered, then turned away.

The cool rain was falling on him again, his face, chest, his arms. He were in the middle of the jungle and rain was falling from the skies and the trees and a cool liquid was falling into his mouth. She was standing at his feet, telling him, "Look what you've come to, Charles Vane, lying here soaked in your own piss. Wake the hell up, won't you? If you don't, you'll float away and you won't come back."

"What are you, some kind of witch? What kind of spell have you cast on me anyway?" he muttered. She bent down, "I'm the sea witch," she whispered, her luminous green eyes shining on him, and as she began to put her lips to his, she disappeared.

He was beginning to stir. Cathy held her breath and sat at his side, putting her fingers lightly on his forehead. Damn, he was better but he was still too hot. He was starting to come to consciousness and he might push her away, not let her help. She had to get hold of more opium so she could slowly bring him down. There was a battle coming, and she could not relent now, or he'd only get worse.

To hell with it, she thought, she was going to remove the piss soaked pants and bathe him. She didn't know what would happen, she was afraid he might grab her by the throat, but that was a chance she was going to take. Very carefully she pulled down the top of his trousers, hoping to remove them, forcing them down and off him, when her fears were realized.

His hand reached out and grabbed her throat. "Who are you" he said hoarsely. Resisting the urge to pull his hands away, she used her fist and brought it down hard on his solar plexus. He released her and doubled over, and began to retch, she put her hand on his forehead, and bathed his face when he was through.

His hand went up and touched her face. "Are you real?" he asked weakly. She took his hand, holding it tightly.

"I'm real, real as you can get. I'm going to try to get you through this."

"Why did you hit me in my stomach?" He was angry but the effort to do anything about it was too much.

"You didn't leave me much choice, you were choking me. I had to do something."

"Hmm. Give me the opium."

She looked for the pipe, hoping it wasn't empty. Fortunately, the pipe was a little less than half full. She helped him light it, and watched him inhale, then he gently pulled her down to his mouth, blew the smoke into hers. She inhaled, not wanting to, but held it for a moment, then blew it gently back into his mouth. This went on until she took the pipe from him and threw it across the tent, fell onto him, feeling a little dizzy, and went to sleep.

She was shivering in the middle of the night, though deep in an opium sleep. He tried to rise to find something put over her, but his head felt thick, and he was still too intoxicated to get up. He settled for trying to wrap around himself more closely.

He had almost fallen asleep when he felt the tip of a cutlass under his chin. He looked up and saw Flint standing over him. "Is that what you're going to do, drag her down with you? Let her become addicted to opium and rum because she's exhausted herself caring for you? You let me take your ship from you, what kind of man are you? You should be fighting me to take it back, but you're too much of a coward. I ought to cut your throat right now. The blade pressed lower, and lower, and soon would find its target.

But Calypso, garbed in a white gown, her red hair hanging loose and wreathed with flowers, threw herself across him. "You can't have him, I won't let you." She held out her hand and blew a powder that sparkled like gold at his face, and Flint dissolved into dust at her feet."

Vane sat up with a start, then lay back down as the effort made him dizzy. He threw up in the bowl Cathy had provided and then stumbled as he tried to stand up. He slowly made his way on unsteady feet out of the tent to the water's edge. He walked out, waist deep, into the water, then began to swim carefully, taking care to stay close to shore. The cool water revived him, and his head was at last beginning to clear.

He heard a splash behind him, and Cathy was suddenly at his side. "Oh no you don't, you'll drown. You're not strong enough.

He put his arm around her waist, letting her support him as he went deeper into the water. "Can you help me get the Ranger back, Cathy?"

"You have to get the Ranger back. Maybe I can help by reasoning with Flint. But you have to get stronger, get off the opium, and don't spend your days drunk."

"And what about Eleanor?"

"One obstacle at a time. Come back to bed, rest. I'll be here. I'll go and get some food tomorrow so you can eat and get stronger." She took his hand and began to swim for shore, pulling him with her. His mind felt the fogginess from the opium, but her hand held him tightly, anchoring him to the shore.

She put him to bed, crawling in next to him. From somewhere she managed to find the blanket and threw it over them both. For the first time in over a week, Vane slept, dreamless, the demons leaving him alone at last while Cathy slept, curled up in his arms.


	9. The Voyagers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cathy has pulled Charles Vane back from the brink and saved him from himself, he's now sober and well enough to set sail in a skiff, his destination unknown. The Walrus and the Ranger have embarked on their mission to find the Herca, but Cathy finds this out from Eleanor, after the fact. Sitting in the office she tells Eleanor about the past two days, and also about how and why she left Nassau. She had tired of Vane and had been dallying with Billy Bones. When Charles found out, he beat her so badly that Billy wanted to kill him. Now Eleanor knows the story, and without Cathy's knowledge, she gives Scott a bag of coins to see if he can find out Vane's destination

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Chapter 9: The Voyagers  
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"Something's hurting me," thought Cathy. She lay there, confused, the opium Vane had forced on her fogging her brain, making it difficult to think clearly. "What can't I move?" she thought.

Then she realized heavy weight pinning her down turned out to be Vane's arm slung across her chest. Earlier in the night he'd held a tight grip on her, but now she was able to slide out from under his arm and escape from the bed—and the foul stench in the tent.

She looked and saw the bowl where he'd thrown up the night before, and gingerly took it and ran down to the ocean's edge and washed it out, scrubbing it with sand before dipping it into the water. Then, tucking it under her arm, she went to the waterfall and rinsed it, then plunged into the pool, rinsing off a traces of the night before, letting the cool water clear her head.

She wrung out her hair, letting it hang free. The last traces of cool air were disappearing, and soon would turn warm and her hair would dry into dozens of ringlets from the humidity. Looking to the horizon she could see that the sun was still low. She knew that soon it would be high in the sky, and the day would slowly turn hot. The whitening sky held no promise of a break from the heat, and if that was the case, Charles' hangover would put him in an evil mood.

It was only with great reluctance that she left the shady haven of the waterfall. On the way back she found three flat sided stones she could use for the kettle. Outside the tent she arranged the stones in a triangle with space enough for a small fire in the middle. She gathered twigs and tinder, then struck two stones together until they emitted a spark that set the palm fronds burning, and gradually added the twigs. She filled the kettle with water from the pool and when the fire was hot enough she set the pot on the stones and waited for the water to boil.

"What are you doing up?" She knew Vane was standing behind her and answered him without even turning around.

"Have you smelled your tent? Or you? Why don't you go bathe, it'll help clear your head. You're going to feel terrible, no matter what. I'm making you something will help your hangover. I need to go find you some food when the market opens, and ask Ruby Marie if you need anything else I didn't get yesterday."

She turned and looked at him, saw a familiar look in his eyes, and knew something was up. "You're going to leave, aren't you? Do you know when you'll be back?"

He sat down next to her and attempted to draw her into his arms, but she recoiled. "You smell really foul—can you please tell me what it is after you've bathed?"

He stood and slapped her playfully on the head. "If it's that bad, why did you put up with it last night?"

"You forced opium on me last night, I was too intoxicated to pay attention. I know you think it's funny, but I wish you wouldn't."

"Yes, I treat you so badly. I'll be back. It's getting warm, sun's coming up. I want to leave soon." He disappeared down the footpath to the waterfall.

She took the kettle from the fire and set it on the sand. She poured the contents of one packet into the water and let it settle. By the time he came back it would be ready. The potion would ease his headache but not hinder his ability to navigate. The other herb packets could be saved for another day.

The cup was ready when he returned. "What's that?" he asked suspiciously.

"Nothing I haven't given you before. It will make your head feel better. Don't be a baby, drink it. And don't worry, it tastes as bad as it smells."

He shook his head, but took the cup and drank the contents. A few minutes later, he ran into the bushes, which didn't surprise her. The magic of the potion was that it started working after it made you sick.

She took the cup from him. "If I go get food, will you promise to still be here when I get back? I know you don't feel like eating, but…"

"Yes, Cathy, I know. And I won't leave without saying goodbye, I promise. You'd probably have Ruby Marie send a wind to blow me back to you if I did. I don't know why you trust that old Obeah woman, she's known to be nothing but trouble."

"Only for those who cause trouble for her. She's always been good to me." Cathy pulled on her skirt and blouse, "She likes me, she looks out for me. It's like having a mother who actually cares about me instead of family ambition." She put her arms around his neck. "Please wait for me, I'm so afraid you won't." She picked up her basket and ran to the market where the vendors were beginning to set out their wares. She picked up rolls, oranges, and dried meat, all things that would keep while he sailed. She looked out over the harbor, and saw that his skiff was still there.

When she returned to his camp, he'd brewed strong black tea for them. He ate more than she thought he would, but he needed more—the week's binge had taken its toll. What they didn't eat, he wrapped up and put in his sea bag. Hand in hand, they wandered to where various crafts were docked, some in for repairs, others making ready to go out to sea.  
He stopped and put his arms around her, kissed her and held her tight. "I don't know how long I'll be gone, Cathy, but I'll be back. Be patient, I love you, you left me behind once, but I won't do that to you." She nodded, tears in her eyes and mouthed the words "I love you". She went with him to the skiff, watched him row off until he disappeared from view. She stared out at the harbor, looking for the familiar lines of the Walrus with her fresh coat of red paint, and the Ranger. Nothing.

She stood for a moment, not believing what she saw, or what she didn't see. "Damn!" she thought and ran up to Eleanor's office.

"Where are they? When did they sail? Tell me Eleanor." She paid no attention to the figure sitting in the chair across from Eleanor's desk. She slapped her hand down hard on the desk. "When did they sail?"

Eleanor excused herself and took Cathy into another room. "What do you mean, just barging in here when I'm conducting business?"

Cathy put her hand around Eleanor's throat, enclosing it in a strong grip. Her fingers started to close and Eleanor was finding it harder and harder to breathe. She tried to tear Cathy's fingers away, but the hold she had on her was too strong.

She held up a hand in a gesture of surrender and Cathy let go. She stood, breathing hard, then when she'd caught her breath told her, "I'll get rid of him and we can talk."  
Cathy remained where she was, watched Eleanor dismiss her customer and then gesture her into the room. She took a bottle of rum and filled two glasses, saying simply, "We're both going to need this."

"When did they sail, Eleanor?" Cathy asked again, then sat back and waited for her answer.

"Two days ago. Flint's spies notified him that the Urca had been spotted. They sailed with short rations, just enough to get them by."

"And where was he before that? I've tried to get information, but all I've heard is that the Andromache was in port and he went after her guns. And that the Andromache's disappeared, and when Flint came back he stayed only long enough to re-supply and leave. He's really set out on that fool's errand?"

"Not a fool's errand if he succeeds, and what do you call robbing the Spanish viceroy?" Eleanor countered.

"Child's play, and I had help from within. All it took was a few bribes and a little bit of legwork. I didn't have to face anyone's guns, and my gun would have found theirs first. I didn't get anyone killed, the risk was all mine. I have my success to justify me."

"So, why weren't you here when they sailed?" Eleanor quickly switched subjects. She'd heard rumors of a different sort, about Cathy and Vane.

Cathy emptied her glass of rum, poured another and looked at Eleanor. "I was nursing Vane out of a rum and opium binge." She held up her hand as Eleanor was about to speak. "Who says I would have been in any different shape, under the circumstances." She refilled her glass, "No, I've been in circumstances where that was tempting, but I didn't do it. The point is that I sobered him up. Almost got strangled for my troubles, but I cleaned him up. And now he's gone."

She stood up and looked out the window, then turned to Eleanor. "Did I ever tell you why I left? I don't think anyone knows the whole story. Vane pretends he doesn't, but I think he does. Oh yes, there's one other." She set her glass on Eleanor's desk. "I don't think I should drink this."

"You were part of it, you know. You'd started seeing Vane behind my back." Eleanor opened her mouth to protest, but Cathy cut her off. "Don't deny it, I saw the two of you on a couple of occasions. I never liked his skirting around behind my back, but I could deal with it better if he took care to hide it from me. I don't think he really wanted me to find out about you, but he got careless."

"I never confronted him, but I was furious. So furious that I seduced a young, blond haired, blue eyed pirate. Billy and Gates took me under their wing on the voyage from England, you know, tried to fill my mind with all sorts of horror stories about the evil ways of pirates. It was easy to turn to Billy when my heart felt so broken. I even kept seeing on seeing him—his sweetness was such a contrast to Charles. Alas, all good things seem to come to an end, and end they did."

"You know what Charles is like. The first time he hit me I told him my brother would kill him if I didn't do it first. After that he took a different strategy. He'd turn me over his knee and lift my skirt, and I'd know the battle was lost. And no matter how hard I'd try to not cry, I'd be in tears before he finished with me. And still I stayed with him. Damn him."

"Somehow he found out about me and Billy. That night he cornered me in my rooms and gave me a beating that was worse than all the times before. Billy slipped in afterwards and saw what he'd done. He wanted to kill him, but I talked him out of it. He helped me pack my trunk and gather up what money I had left. Charles must have been ashamed of what he did, because he didn't show up to check on me. Billy came back with some more money for me, and told me he'd found a ship for me. He put me on a ship to Havana, and promised to come and see me if he could."

Eleanor came over to Cathy and put her arm around her. "Charles told me what he did, Cathy. He made me swear not to tell anyone. He was never the same after you left. When he'd get really drunk he'd tell me that the best part of him had sailed away with you. He blamed himself for being a fool, that it was his own fault that you'd left him. And he didn't blame you, for anything. I never believe anything he says, especially when he's drunk, but I believe that he realized he'd made the biggest mistake of his life."

Cathy put her arms around her and started crying. "Damn that bastard," she whispered, "I've tried so hard to not love him but I never quite succeed. I could love someone decent like Billy Bones, or a privateer I met in Paris, but I came back to the biggest bastard, with the exception of my brother, that I know. And now I've got to sit and wait, and wonder if he's all right, not knowing where he is or when he'll return. How did we ever come to love such a son of a bitch, Eleanor?"

She picked up the glass she'd abandoned and drained it. "I'm going to find Charles' opium pipe. I'm feeling too much and I don't want to feel anything right now." She kissed Eleanor's cheek. "Don't worry about me, I don't."

Eleanor watched her leave, then summoned Scott. She put a purse of coins into his hands. "Ask around the docks and see if anyone knows where Charles went. I don't know where you should start, but someone has to know something." Scott bowed and left.  
________________________________________


	10. Check to the White Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cathy has been having nightmares of ships and gunfire, cannons firing, men fighting. And one morning she wakes up to find her dream has become reality. Someone is firing on Nassau, but no one can recognize the sound of the guns. As Max, Eleanor, Anne Bonny, and Jack Rackham, and Cathy gather together to try to figure out who, they all come up with the same conclusion--Vane has found a new ship and has come to invade Nassau. They all have reason to fear him and his motives, so Max, with a whore's cleverness, prepares to use Cathy as both bait and distraction.

Chapter 10: Check to the White Queen  
________________________________________  
Cathy was having the dream again. The dream where she could hear, but not see, the gulls, the cannons firing, the splash of the water against ships' hulls, the cry of fighting, the cry of men in pain. It was all too real, too horrendous, too much to bear and she wanted it to stop, stop, stop now. She preferred death to this dream.

She sat up suddenly, shaking it off, but the terror, the horrible pounding and racing of her heart made it seem as if it would jump out of her chest. If that happened, what would she do? Would she try to put it back in, see if it still fit, or would she take her knife, stab it, hack it into little pieces, so she could finally stop the pain.  
Charles had been gone for weeks. There had been no word, no clue, no idea as to where he was. He'd said he'd return but he didn't know when, and she had been left to wait and wait. Was this how he had felt when she had run away from him to take refuge in Havana? Had he felt this sorrowful, this alone, a void in his heart that nothing could fill but her return?

She got out of bed and wearing nothing but her sheer lawn nightgown and went onto the veranda and stared out towards the sea. Even in the wispy nightgown she was miserably hot, tonight there was no air, no breeze to offer relief from the overwhelming heat. Maybe she should take off her night gown and pour water over herself, but as the air dried the water she would only find herself suffering in the heat once more.

She wandered back into her room and found where she had hidden Charles' opium pipe. There was pitifully little left, just enough to give her relief this night from the dream and the heat. She lit the pipe and inhaled the way he had taught her—small breaths, don't waste the smoke. Thankfully there was more left than she'd expected, and she fell into a pleasant opium dream where there were no ships, no cannons, no battles and no Charles.

She slept until late in the day, but woke up with a pounding in her head from the opium that would not go away. She wanted to reach for the pipe, but then put aside. Being an addict, addicted to the poppy, was not what she wanted. She would survive the headache without it.

Someone was knocking at the door and she wished they would stop because it was aggravating the hammering inside her head. She opened the door to find Eleanor standing in front of her, holding a tray with hot tea, fruit, and bread.

"Cathy, you aren't even dressed!" she exclaimed. She went to the window and opened the shutters, letting in the hot air, but flooding the room with light. "You never sleep this late, even in the hot weather. Get dressed and eat your breakfast—do anything, just don't stay in a dark room all day in your shift. Max has been asking where you were, so I decided to bring your breakfast up to you."

Eleanor went to the cupboard and pulled out a pink sack gown. "Here, this will be cool enough for this weather. Come on, Cathy, would Charles want to see you like this?"  
"I've had the nightmare again, Eleanor, I keep having it over and over. Something's coming, I can feel it, I don't know what it is, or who it is, but every night I dream about it. I don't feel safe here, I've never felt safe here, unless I knew that Charles was close. And now I don't even know where he is, I don't even know if he is alive, no one knows anything. My brother and the Ranger are out to sea and we've no word as to whether or not he's engaged the Herca de Lima yet."

Eleanor laid eyes on a familiar object sitting on a small table next to the bed. "Well, this certainly isn't going to help you. Did he introduce you to opium? He tried to get me to smoke it, but I refused, I thought you would have the good sense to do the same thing."

"It's the only thing that drives the nightmares away, the only way I can sleep dreamless at night. Don't worry, I've only been smoking out what he left in the bowl. Opium is wretched stuff, I have dreadful headaches the day after I smoke it, but when I wake up after having the nightmares, it feels like a godsend. Don't worry Eleanor, I'll see if Ruby Marie can fix up something for me, but if she can't find anything that works I will get more opium. I cannot live with these nightmares anymore. If I can't have Charles to chase them away, I'll take whatever I can get."

"Eat, Cathy, and when you're done give the tray to Max. And go swimming, play in the surf, anything, just don't smoke any more opium. I don't think Charles would be happy to see you as you are now." Eleanor started to close the door behind her, but stopped when Cathy said:

"Eleanor?" Eleanor turned around. "Which of us do you think Charles would choose? I mean, if you have your Spanish gold I think he may find himself wanting us both, and I don't think I could live with that."

Eleanor slammed the door behind her and hurried down the stairs to the brothel to find Max. Though their relationship had died long ago, she counted on Max for small favors, which, for a price, Max was generally willing to do. Hopefully Max would be willing to keep an eye on Cathy for a few days, because she didn't trust the way Cathy was behaving.  
If only Charles… if only Charles what, she asked herself. Charles was not a free man. Even if she did gain her prize of Spanish gold, even if Charles did try to insinuate himself back into her life, there would still be Cathy. Cathy was the rock he anchored himself on. Cathy was the one who could soothe and calm him, the one he would listen to. Cathy had an emotional bond with him that she never could have. The one truth was that though Charles had long been her lover, Cathy was the love of his life.

No, I don't want him back, thought Eleanor, as much as I can be drawn to him, as much as he makes me feel so womanly and passionate in bed, I don't want him. And besides, he would never let go of Cathy, he might lie and cheat on us both, but he would never leave her. I don't want to step into that. I would never want to share, never be second, and lie though he might, that is all I would be.

The next morning Eleanor woke to the sound of thunder. Walking over to the window, she pushed open the shutters and saw that the day was clear, bright, and sunny. Suddenly she heard the rolling again, and realized it was not thunder but…

"Cannon fire! Cathy burst into the room, Max trailing behind her. "Cannons! Whose guns are those, I don't recognize them. They're not the Walrus, or the Ranger—who is it? The Scarborough is supposed to be moored at one of the islands, could they have put to sea and be trying to shell us?"

"I don't know, I don't recognize them either," Eleanor said slowly, "One of us should find Anne or Jack and see if they recognize them, or if they have any idea as to who might be shelling us."

At that moment Jack Rackham and Anne Bonny came into the room. "I don't suppose you have any idea as to who might be blessing us with their presence, do you?" Rackham said.  
"Maybe someone who knows our weaknesses," Cathy moved closer to the window. Still the sound but no sight of them, she thought. "Ships with the sails furled, the fort unmanned or all but deserted. No guns in town and no one to man them if there were. No one to defend us, just a bunch of drunk pirates and townspeople who'll do nothing but cower behind their doors."

"Someone angry, bitter and reckless who figures he has nothing to lose." Anne Bonny spoke up.

"Vane," said Cathy.

"Vane," Anne agreed.

"I'm going upstairs to pack some stuff and get dressed. All of you would do well to do the same thing. We're in for a fight, and we don't know how it will go. Charles could come to protect us, or he might decide he doesn't care."

"He would care about you, Miss Cathy. Come with me, we pack a bag for you, then one for me. We get you breakfast, and try not to think about this right now, yes?" Max spoke for the first time since the shelling had begun.

Eleanor felt a pang of jealousy as Max took Cathy by the hand and led her out of the room. Like everyone else, Max waited on Cathy, because you wanted to take care of Cathy, protect her. Stop thinking like that, she told herself, don't be jealous of Cathy over Max. There's only one person Cathy loves, and like Max said, he'll protect her even if he tells all the rest of us to go to hell. Max won't snare Cathy no matter how hard she tries.

Rackham and Anne were arguing over whether or not it was Vane trying to shell the city. How did he get a ship, how did he get the men, did he intend to place Nassau under siege? Would the crews on their ships in the harbor be effective in battle, how many of the crew could return to man the guns. Was there even any point? What about the planters outside of town, would they be in danger, should they be warned? So many questions and no time really to prepare for what was coming.

Cathy and Max re-appeared, dressed and carrying bundles in their hands. Eleanor, too had dressed, and was standing on the balcony. "No sign of him, yet," she said softly, but all of them knew that soon the sails would appear on the horizon and reveal who had been firing their cannons so early in the morning.

"I got an idea," Max said suddenly, and took Cathy by the hand and led her back to her room. They did not appear right away and Eleanor wondered what was taking so long, until they re-appeared and she understood why.

Max had dressed Cathy in a magenta dress with a low cut bodice. She'd laced Cathy's waist far tighter than was her habit, with the result that not only was did her waist look smaller, but her breasts were pushed up higher. She had pinned up half of Cathy's hair on top of her head in loose, careless curls, and the rest hung down her back. To finish she had rouged Cathy's lips and cheeks with a soft pink color. The result was that Cathy looked soft and desirable, as well as seductive.

"Why Max?" Eleanor asked softly, and Max gave her an incredulous look, as if she wondered why she asked.

"If he sees her first, he may go easier on us for her sake. He hasn't seen her for, what, almost three months? Unless he don't love her no more, the sight of her looking so lovely may soften him. She's smart enough to know how to handle him. If she's soft and gentle and yielding, he'll remember how it feels to hold her in his arms, and he'll want her. Just look at her, I'd take her to bed myself right now if she'd let me. She may have to beg him for our lives, and it will go easier on all of us if she can make him desire her after all this time. She knows what he is, but she still loves him. Best hope he still loves her, too."

"Well, well," said Rackham, "I must say that I approve. He'll want her, oh yes, I can guarantee that. If she puts him in a good enough mood, he may even let me off the hook. I must say, though, I don't pity you Eleanor. If he makes it here before Flint does, I wouldn't put anything past him. I would not be surprised if he's engaged a ship before sailing into Nassau. He's letting us know just what he has. If the cannon fire hasn't served as sufficient warning, I'd suggest you get word to the captains to either prepare for a fight, or flee. He's going to try to capture Nassau, and it wouldn't surprise me if he succeeds."

"So, he's gotten a ship, maybe two, which is what he'd need. Then he managed to find a crew from somewhere to man the ships and the guns. And this crew is also experienced enough to know how to sack a city? How in the world could he have gotten a ship in the first place?" Cathy was trying to sound sarcastic, to spit venom at Rackham, but she realized that Charles could have pulled it off. And if it was him, Max had set her out as bait to try to save all of them. She was feeling like a sacrificial lamb and didn't like it.

Anne Bonny joined them on the balcony. "We all know what he can do, he's very resourceful. It's too bad we don't know what he's planning, but no way of knowing that, now is there? Hopefully Jack and I can be taken back on as crew, and after he takes one look at you, Cathy, he'll want to bed you as soon as he can. He always was like that with you, just don't refuse him or talk back to him, and you'll be fine." She narrowed her eyes at Max and Eleanor, "As for you two, I don't know what he has in mind. I'd watch myself if I were you." She took Jack's spyglass and looked out to sea.

They sat through the afternoon, waiting for the signs of sails that did not appear. "What is he doing?" grumbled Anne, "Torturing us by making us wait? If he's not in by the next tide, I'd say that he's changed his mind, if it was ever him at all."

"Oh, I think it was him. That cannonade this morning was for the benefit of Eleanor and me. He's letting me know that he's coming for me, and he's letting Eleanor know he's come for Nassau. The queen is dead, long live the king." If you're going to come, come, Cathy wished, don't play games and don't make me suffer like this. I don't even know if you're still the man I love.

"You mean, the queen is dead, long live the king and new queen," said Eleanor without bitterness. I wish now that Flint had never left. I'd rather not have the Urca's gold if it means losing what I have."

"Don't talk like that, Eleanor. I don't want to be the new queen of Nassau. If I could take my treasure and board a ship now, I would," said Cathy, "But what if he's looking for me? I won't put anyone's life in danger. I won't. I'll do whatever he wants of me, as long as all of you are safe. Even you and Anne, Rackham."

He bowed in reply, and took another look through his spyglass. "I think you'll get to fulfill that, Cathy. I see a schooner and a brigantine coming in to port. If they anchor with their guns parallel to shore, I think we can guess who that is. I hope Nassau yields without firing a shot, that means you, Eleanor. I don't know if he intends to let his men raid the planters, but for now he may satisfy himself with having you yield. Live to fight another day, is my advice, for what it's worth."

"Come Cathy," Max took her hand and led her upstairs to her room. She undid her petticoat and removed it, then took off her bodice to relieve her of her corset and re-laced it. "We make it easy for him, it put him in a better mood, yes?" She pulled the pins out of Cathy's hair and the red curls spilled over her shoulders and down her hips. "There, he see you, he gonna want you and want you now." She slipped her hand slyly up Cathy's skirt, and her fingers found what she was looking for. "Oh, you already wet, you want him so bad, don't you? Just wait, he'll give you what you want and more, much more, at least that's what we want." She kissed her quickly on the lips and took her back down to the others.

They watched the ships come sailing in, watched as they anchored and raised the gun ports. Then two jolly boats splashed into the water, and slowly rowed towards shore. "This is it", muttered Anne, "The moment of truth."

Eleanor grabbed Rackham's spyglass and saw Vane sitting in the prow of the boat, watching the small party on the balcony. "Get it over with, Vane," she prayed, "I can't stand this anymore."

The boat beached, and Vane jumped out, followed by three of his men, He strode purposefully to the staircase and mounted the stairs. Every eye was on him, he was thinner and it made him look more ruthless. People stepped out of the way as he made his way to where the group stood, waiting. And the first person he saw was Eleanor, holding onto Cathy's hand.

Stopping for a moment, he looked at her as if he were trying to remember something. She stood still, not moving, and at that moment, a breeze came up, lifting her red curls. She lifted a hand to brush them back, unveiling more of her ivory skin over her bodice, the look of her making him catch his breath.

Eleanor tried to read the look on his face: was it longing, was it lust? The others may as well not have been there, they seemed to be caught in a spell that put them in their own world. Come on Charles, she thought, you want her more than you hate us, don't you?

He held out a hand, "Cathy," he said, Was it a command, a question, a request, Eleanor couldn't tell. 

Cathy knew. She let go of Eleanor's hand and ran to him. He put his arm around her, holding her close.

"Don't you dare leave me like that again, you bastard," she whispered, "Or if you do, there better be a damn good reason." He laughed, whispered something in her ear, and she looked at him and smiled.

Check to the white queen, she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In chess the white pieces are considered to have the advantage, as white always moves first


	11. Artemis and Actaeon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new pirate captain has sailed into the port of Nassau. Her galleon and a ridiculously garish red hat makes her the butt of jokes for both Eleanor and Cathy. Eleanor has to be more cautious, after all, business is business, but when she and Max see the captain trying to make a play for Charles, they warn her of what is going on, what does she intend to do about it. Cathy will not take this lying down, and intends to do what only she can do--enchant Charles away from another woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Artemis and Actaeon mean nothing to you, check out your Greek myth site. No one really knows how old Greek myths are, but their themes remain eternal

Slowly, very slowly, so slowly it was almost reluctantly, Charles was lacing up Cathy's gown. He would straighten material with every tug of the lace, insisting on brushing aside—again—Cathy's mane of long hair. Every so often he would touch his lips to her silken back, warning her that if she were not careful, her dress would soon be lying on the floor from where she had just picked it up.

"I want to find my brother." The pronouncement startled Vane, who had been sure that with careful persuasion he could remove the dress and delay her departure back into town.  
"What did you say?" he said, intending to break her concentration and put it back on him. "How would you do that? How would you find where he is?"

How indeed, Cathy thought. "Well," she said thoughtfully, "I thought about trying to find out if any of the newly arrived captains have heard of a sea battle off the coast of Florida. There hasn't been any news. Trying at Port Royal or Santa Domingo, wouldn't do any good, they're too far away. And I want to avoid the Royal Navy's ships on general principle, especially if they find out I'm Flint's sister. The only thing I can think of is to try to retrace his route."

She paused a moment, "I was thinking about hiring a fishing boat. I could bargain them down to a fair price, I think, especially if I pay ahead of time. Half to get me there, half to get me home. After that storm, I don't know what's happened to Flint, but even the Walrus might not have survived. And if there was a battle? Maybe both ships are gone, which would mean they're stranded. If only one ship has survived that means they have to take on the treasure and the full compliment of men. Anyway, he's my brother, and I want to know he's all right."

Unbeknownst to her, the laces were being slowly undone. "The fishing boats here are too small—they only fish off shore. You'd need something bigger. Wherever he is, it's probably a few days' sail, and a small fisherman's boat or skiff won't do. It's better if you let me do this for you," said Vane, having completed his task. Now he was sliding the dress off her shoulders. "I don't want you out there all alone. It's dangerous, and if I hear you went out looking for him I'll..."

"Yes," she interrupted, "I know what you'll do, nothing you haven't done before. I can take care of myself, thank you. I eluded the Spanish, remember? And they still haven't found me. And besides, I know you won't help, I'll be lucky if you let me leave, even luckier if you agree to help me find Flint." She turned to face him, "If it were Eleanor you wouldn't even be objecting, would you? Why you see me as helpless I will never know. My brother doesn't even…"

But she did not get to finish her sentence. He silenced her lips with his while he untied her petticoat and slid it over her hips. He cupped her breast and slid his hand down to her belly as he caressed her neck with his lips.

She turned around and began to undo the buttons on his shirt whispering, "Just for once could you just ask me first?" She pulled his trousers open and slid them to the floor. He kicked them off and carried her back to his bed to begin where he'd left off.

Later, much later, she walked down the hill, painfully aware that he'd tied her laces too tight, something he did when he wasn't happy with her. She was sweet and compliant when it suited her, but after all these years, he should know better. Why she was in love with one of the worst scoundrels in Nassau was beyond her. She had more sense, but with Charles you found something worthwhile if you scratched beyond the surface. All you needed to do was close your eyes to the rest.

When she reached town she went straight to the brothel and knocked on the door. Max answered, a smile spreading across her face as she laid eyes on Cathy.

"Don't tell me, let me guess—a bath after a long and strenuous night with Vane, yes?" She took Cathy's arm and pulled her indoors. "Don't worry, I have just what you need. " She led her to a small room with a stone floor that contained a large wooden tub. "You just wait and have some café, yes?"

She turned Cathy around and began to undo the lacing on her dress. "What do he think he doing, lacing you up so tight? It's like he's leaving his mark 'Vane was here.' I swear, if he could tattoo 'Property of Charles Vane' on you he would. And I never imagined that man would be jealous."

Cathy watched as servants brought in buckets of water and poured them into the tub. "Oh, he's jealous all right, even though he won't admit it. I'm strictly hands off, Eleanor is too. He can't make up his mind between the two of us, so he won't. It's easier for me to look the other way when it comes to her, I've more experience of men than she'll ever have. And somehow we stay friends in spite of him. I'm the one more likely to leave than she is, and for that reason he works harder to keep me, and not take me for granted. He knows damn good and well that if I left him once, I'll do it again."

She soaked for an hour, then Max laced her into one of her own gowns. Cathy promised to return the dress, then she kissed Max goodbye, Max lingering the touch of her lips for too long, as usual. She wandered to Eleanor's offices, and when she was sure Eleanor was alone she wandered into her office and stood by the window and smiled.  
"You look terrible," Eleanor giggled, "How much rest have you had?"

"Rest, some; sleep, almost none. He's going to have to learn that when I say I need to sleep, that is exactly what I mean. I swear that man can live on next to no sleep for days, and then he sleeps round the clock and is ready to go again."

"And I bet you mean ready for anything. Well," she held up a bottle and a teacup, "Which shall it be, rum or tea or both?"

"Tea, strong black tea. I'll still sleep this afternoon—maybe I'll start doing siesta like I did in Havana. It might not be a bad idea." She turned and stared out the window, and something she had not seen before caught her eye.

"Eleanor, give me your spyglass." She took it from her, and peered intently through it, "You must see this," she said and handed it to her.

A huge galleon, like a leviathan, was entering the harbor. Cathy came over to Eleanor's side, "Looks more like a Spaniard, doesn't it? The pirates here prefer schooners and brigantines, they're easier to maneuver. Who would choose an unwieldy ship like that? I wonder if they've seen it up at the fort. I don't recognize her, do you? Who do you think she might belong to?"

They watched as the behemoth hove to, and boats began to be lowered. Eleanor looked again through the glass and saw a tiny figure in the prow of the lead boat. Perched on its head, visible even through the tiny spyglass, was a garish red hat. Eleanor handed it to Cathy and she burst out in laughter.

"If she's the captain, she's going to give women captains a bad name. I just wish Flint were here," she said, "I'd love to see the look on his face."

"Behave yourself Cathy, besides you're not the one who has to deal with her, if she is the captain. Whoever and whatever, I hope they have a good haul they're willing to sell—I could use the money, I've got payoffs to make. You can be as nasty as you like, but I've got to play nice."

"Well, you go play nice while I hide out until tonight, besides, I've got to return Max's gown. I'm going to have a good meal and a long siesta, and come out with the twilight like a bat. Perhaps I'll see you at the tavern tonight."

Eleanor sat down in her desk chair, staring out the window. She and Cathy both came from merchant families. Neither was gentry, but that was no bar to advancement in a society where the nobility had become impoverished while the merchant class flourished.

Cathy had had the same formidable education as her brother. She was fluent in four languages, and could converse easily in any. She'd been admitted to the most prestigious salons in Paris, and had met many literary and political figures. She had been presented at the French court and young Louis' regents had ogled the young Englishwoman with the auburn hair, making it plain that if she chose to stay in France, not one but several offers were pending. She'd never have to worry about money again in her life.

"How do you do it?" Eleanor had asked her once, "How do you go through life so absolutely certain that things will go your way? You're never jealous when Charles strays and as you predict, he always comes back. You left Nassau with very little and you come back with a fortune that will last you for life. No one has that kind of luck, yet you seem to."

"Eleanor, I refuse to entertain the thought that things will go wrong. And I'm not reckless, I'm deliberate. I take into consideration the odds of success, and I follow my instincts. I could have married a nobleman, enriched his coffers, and bore his children. I didn't want that. I gambled on Flint coming to get me, I gambled on being able to rob my parents, and then I gambled again when Charles—did what he did, and I left. I believe in myself, as you must, otherwise you wouldn't have backed Flint."

"True enough, Cathy," Eleanor said out loud, "And I bet you will take care of our little interloper. Just don't scare her too much or I may not be able to purchase her prize."  
"No worries," Cathy replied, reciting the motto of the island, "I'm going to eat, then I plan on sleeping for hours. Don't look for me until it's well past twilight. It will be nice to be able to sleep without someone waking me up for a change." She turned and went up the stairs to her rooms.

She was dreaming pleasant dreams of drowning the galleon's captain when first knocking, then pounding at her door woke her from a deep sleep. She answered the door, dressed only in her white lawn shift, and saw Max and Eleanor standing at the threshold.

She motioned them in, "What are the two of you doing here? It's barely dark and I'd planned on sleeping a little bit more." She looked over at her clock and saw how wrong she was.  
"Come on Cathy," Eleanor spoke up, "There's something going on at the tavern—the little blond captain is there, and she's all over Charles, who, of course, is not discouraging her. Are you going to do anything about it?"

"Of course I'm going to. I suppose the two of you are here to help me?"

"But of course, we've here to get you ready," Max jumped in, "I'm going to put you in your best dress and by the time I'm done Charles will forget all about her. She may be younger than you, but what you have she'll never possess. Where's your dress? Max is gonna work her magic on you, you just wait and see."

Cathy drew a bundle from her wardrobe. The rose silk dress was wrapped in waxed silk to preserve it. She pulled it out, the fabric shimmering even in the candlelight. It had only been worn once, but not for Charles. She closed her eyes, remembering the French privateer who had admired it—then quickly removed it.

Meanwhile, Max anointed her hair with coconut oil and brushed it until it shown. She pulled up Cathy's long heavy locks into a chignon at the back of her head, letting little curls tumble down her back. Max tied the petticoat and skirt around her waist, then laced the bodice loosely, pulling it down to display even more of Cathy's breast.

She slid her hand up the bodice, "See," Max said, "Let him play a little while she watches, which I guarantee you he will. Give him a good look at what he's buying so he'll not be a fool and let you go. Just remember that whatever she has, she's no match for you—you're the most beautiful woman in Nassau and Charles knows it. As soon as you walk into that tavern he won't be able to take his eyes off you, no one will."

Cathy put on her jasmine perfume, and fastened a gold and diamond necklace from her haul around her neck. Max rimmed her eyes with kohl, then dabbed rouge on her lips and cheeks, and led her to the full length mirror to let her look at herself.

A stranger stared back at her, a stranger she had not seen since, well, Paris. "Damn girl, I could eat you up right now," Max said, putting her chin on Cathy's shoulder and her arms around her waist. "I've never seen you like this, you could be the most successful whore in the islands if you wanted to. Men would pay a high price for you, wouldn't they Eleanor?"

"That's not a nice thing to say, Max, but I think you're right. Cathy, I can't wait for Charles to see you." Eleanor would have given anything to see what happened when the little blond captain came face to face with Cathy. Seeing the look on Charles face would be worth it, too. "I want a report, tomorrow, Cathy, all the juicy details, and don't you dare leave anything out!"

Cathy doubted that she would have been able to walk into the inn if it hadn't been for Jack Rackham. He happened to be wandering out, unpleasantly drunk by the look on his face, as she was walking in.

"Well Artemis," he said, "Are you here to blind Actaeon and throw her to the hounds to be torn apart?" His smile showed anything but good will.

She patted him on the cheek, the last pat more of a slap. "Not until I've taken care of you, my dear, but that's for another day. Now, if you don't mind, I have business to take care of." Her dress rustled as she swept past him, blowing him a sarcastic kiss.

She could hear the sound of glasses clinking and male laughter as she entered the tavern. She paused, hesitating for a moment before she entered, seeing for herself the little blond captain practically draping herself over Charles. Not for long, my dear, she thought, that's my man you're trying to steal. Then she walked into the candlelight.

Every man looked up, every man could smell her jasmine perfume as she approached the table. Cries of "Cathy" went up, and they jostled to find her a seat, and get her a glass of rum. She stood at the edge of the table and picked up someone's glass of rum and drained it, so everyone there could take in the sight of her deep décolletage.  
She stood at the table, talking and laughing, bathed in the glow of the candles, while Vane sat and glowered when she put her hand on Captain Hornigold's shoulder and laughed at some inconsequential thing he said.

"Actaeon," she thought to herself, "I will strike you blind, or blind Charles to your presence. He's my man and not for your taking, he just needs to be reminded. She looked at Charles and caught his eye, then gave him a little secretive smile. He looked her up and down, looking at her dress, then looking at her like he'd like to remove it.  
He withdrew his arm from where it had been resting on the little captain's shoulder as if she'd only been an afterthought. Leaning forward, he seemed to be taking her in, the deep décolletage of her dress, the careless curls trailing down her neck, her golden breasts pushing up against her bodice. He looked like he wanted to eat her alive.

He patted his knee, beckoning her, wanting her to come to him. Oh no, I'm not that easy, at least I hope not, she thought, and was going to walk away when she saw him hold out his hand to her. Oh god, I hate this, I'm weak, she thought, I'm weak, and I should walk away but both of us know I won't. I can't.

By force of habit she came to him and he lifted her up by her slender waist and set her on her lap. "I forgive you, this time," she whispered to him, "but don't count on it always being this way." She leaned over the table so he could get a glimpse of her cleavage and picked up the bottle of rum, taking a drink from it before filling his glass. She looked over at Actaeon, who looked hurt and confused, and felt a little sorry for her, but only a little.

Charles drained his glass, then set Cathy on her feet and stood up. "Well, gents, this is it for tonight for me, it's time I took my woman to bed." Cathy tried to slap him, but he held her arms and she smiled tolerantly as occupants of the table laughed. Evidently there was going to be a price for this victory, and she would be the one who paid it.

They left the tavern, arm in arm, and Charles suddenly shoved her down a dark corridor. He shoved her against the wall, and pulling down her bodice, kissed the tops of her breasts and then her mouth and began ruching up the hem of her gown until he could feel the smooth skin of her thigh. Suddenly she felt him inching up the front of her gown and she tried to grab his hand to stop him before it would be too late for both of them.

"No Vane," she said, trying to sound like she meant it, "Not here. Stop." She tried to push him away even though she knew she could not match his strength.

The hand under her skirt was growing bolder. "Yes, here. Here and now." He paused for a moment, then said, "Here and now, or I take you up to your room and remove your pretty Paris gown and turn you over my knee." Both knew what that meant.

She thought for a moment, "You help me find Flint, then yes to the second and I'll even behave myself."

His answer was to drop her skirt and slip an arm around her waist. "And I'm going to do with you whatever I like," he warned and she smiled.

They came out of the corridor and disappeared up the stairs to her rooms. Actaeon emerged from the shadows where she'd been hiding and looked up towards the door where they'd disappeared.

"Good evening, cherie," Max appeared, smoking a long thin cigarette. "I see you've met our Cathy, it is too bad for you that she does not let Charles stray—very often, that is. Evidently this was not one of those times."

"Are they always like that?" Actaeon could not help asking the question.

"Oh yes, always or at least frequently. He wants her wild, reckless, and willing and so she is. She's his partner in every way and he knows that. There's not a man in Nassau who would not have her, so he's always on his guard. There are many beautiful women in Nassau, but there is only one Cathy Flint, and she's his and no one else's and he intends to keep it that way. No matter how beautiful you are, cherie, you don't stand a chance." She stubbed out her cigarette and went back into the brothel, leaving Actaeon to ponder her words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my mean girl story. I wrote it in response to something that was posted on FanFiction.net (it's also posted here). Maybe I shouldn't have done it, but I like this story, so am posting it here.


	12. The Searchers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cathy is anxious to hear about her brother, nothing has been heard or seen of the Walrus since she set off in pursuit of the Herca de Lima. Charles is being no help, and forbids her to go and search for him--though he should know that telling her "No" is pointless. She seeks out Captain Benjamin Hornigold, but, not surprisingly, he turns her down flat. In the meantime, "Actaeon", or Captain Eleanora Sutter, has contacted Eleanor, to see about selling off her haul from her last raid. Neither Cathy or Eleanor want her in Nassau, but money is money, and business is business, and perhaps she has learned to stay away from Charles. And then, a surprise offer of help comes to Cathy.

First light. Sun was coming in through the cracks in the shutters, and out of habit Vane was immediately awake.

He turned on his side seeing Cathy, sleeping peacefully as a child, her long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. There were shadows, too, under her eyes that somehow did not detract from her looks. Cathy could look beautiful under circumstances that might drain the looks out of another woman.

He kissed the top of her head, and stroked her hair, tucked the locks crossing her face behind her ears. He should have been sorry that he used her so shamefully the night before, but he wasn't. He'd enjoyed every minute and he'd gladly do it again. It would not have been easy, but if she had truly wanted to, she could have stopped him. True, he would not have been agreeable, but she knew how to handle him and had proved it in the past. That's on of the things he loved about her, that tremendous will and her ability to say no to him or anyone.

"Cathy," he said softly, "I know you can hear me. That little display you put on last night wasn't necessary, but I loved seeing it. Sometimes I forget just how beautiful you are, and I've never seen the Cathy you revealed last night. I don't have to see you like that to know how lovely you are, how lucky I am to have you. You never cease to surprise me and I never expected that of you."

He pulled the last of the pins from her hair, and kissed the glossy auburn curls, then he slide carefully out of bed and got dressed. He slipped out the door reluctantly, taking one last look at her, then carefully latched the door shut.

"I love you too, Vane," she said softly, then turned over and went back to sleep until well past noon.

When she woke, the hands on the little porcelain clock showed just how late she had slept. She picked up the key and wound it, then put her hands to her hair and realized that he had pulled out the pins. She picked up her brush and tried to untangle it, but the silky locks were stubborn and resisted her efforts to put them in a semblance of order. She pulled on a skirt and blouse and ran barefoot to the brothel, calling frantically for Max, hoping that she could obtain a bath and wash her hair.

Max must have been waiting for her. "I expected your hours ago," she said as she supervised the hot water being added to warm the bath. She turned Cathy's face gently, seeing the violet shadows under her eyes, the bruised lips. She turned her around and began to unlace her and remove her skirt, and Cathy heard her sharp intake of breath.  
"What did he do to you?" She inspected the bruises on Cathy's buttocks, the outline of a handprint showing in places.

"I know it looks bad …" Cathy began, but Max cut her off.

"What did he do to you? It not only looks bad, it is bad. What is this, Cathy?" There was more than concern on Max's face, there was anger, but Cathy was not sure at whom it was directed.

"It's not what you think, it's more like a game we play—one we play a little too well sometimes. Don't worry, I'm a willing participant, I wasn't forced. Do I understand why we do this, no." She closed her eyes, re-living the night before for just a brief moment. "I don't even remember how we started, but we, not just him, we enjoy it."

Max shook her head, "If someone wanted to do this to one of my whores, they'd pay dearly for the privilege, you watch yourself, Cathy."

"Oh, I do, and he knows the meaning of no more. If he doesn't behave himself, he doesn't get to play."

Max shook her head, clearly not convinced. When Cathy finished her bath, Max wrapped her in the bath sheet to dry, then smacked her on her bottom, as if to make a point.

"Ow," Cathy rubbed her sore bum, "Even Vane would have the decency to not do that so soon," she said mischievously.

Max threw up her hands as if to say, "I'm done with you."

Cathy finished dressing and went directly to Eleanor's. She saw her standing in front of the window, watching. Cathy stood next to her and put her arm around her.

"Watching won't make him arrive any faster, Eleanor. I want to go find him, what do you think?"

Eleanor turned around, "You might talk to Captain Hornigold and ask him what he thinks. He'll know if we should try to find him, or not. I don't know what you'll do about Charles, maybe you can talk him into helping you."

Cathy shook her head, "He seems dead set against it. He says he'll help, yet he'll do nothing. Now that he won't have a share of the Spanish treasure, he won't care. I'll try, though. Vane's said he'll help me more than once. It's time I held him to it, after all, I paid for it. I just don't want to go off on my own without telling him-yet."

Someone cleared their throat, "Excuse me," said a female voice, "I was told I could find Eleanor Guthrie here."

They turned to find the little blond captain standing in the doorway. She looked at Cathy, looked again, then her face turned white under its tan. She looked hesitant, as if she did not know if she should leave or stay, her look clearly wishing Cathy into the deepest hole in the ocean.

Eleanor stepped forward and shook her hand. "I'm Eleanor Guthrie. This is Cathy Flint, sister to James Flint of the Walrus. What can I do for you?"

"I'm Theodora Sutter, of the Virago. I'm told that you are the best agent when it comes to selling merchandise. People speak of you very highly."

Up close Theodora was lovely. Her hair was a light golden brown that stopped short of being blond. Her eyes were a light amber brown, with thick lashes and brows. "She's half Turk, if I'm not mistaken," thought Cathy, her bone structure seemed more Arab, in spite of her German or Dutch surname. The European was there, but subdued by the Moor. She had the rounder curves of the Turkish woman, and if Cathy were a man, she would have found her desirable.

"Well, I'll leave the two of you to your business, I have my own to take care of." Cathy did not add the nicety of saying it was a pleasure to meet her, both knew where they stood.

Captain Hornigold had set up an office of sorts for himself in the inn. The room was large enough to accommodate both bed and desk, and he had a veranda where he could watch the ships in port and see the comings and goings of Eleanor's customers. He had not forgiven Eleanor or Vane for forcing him out of the consortium, but it would not be hard to buy himself a position. Realistically he knew that Vane had forced this on her. He had not expected for Vane to take over the fort, or fire on ships in the harbor, but it did not surprise him.

Nor did it surprise him to see Cathy knocking at his door. In his opinion, a visit from Cathy could light up anyone's day. He invited her in and poured a glass of rum and one for himself.

He was old and canny enough to have developed the talent to read people's faces. He also could put on a comforting manner when he chose, so he reached over and patted her knee, and asked the question she wanted to hear.

"What can this old salt do for you, Miss Cathy?" His smile clearly said, come on, you can tell me, you know you can trust me.

Which was why she was there. "Flint has not returned, and I'm worried. I have no idea how long it took to sail to their destination, I don't know how much fighting they faced, and I don't know how they fared during the storm. I don't even know if both ships survived, or if they're lying at the bottom of the ocean. In short, I'm anxious to find out anything I can.  
"They could be gathering the cargo together, or they could be stranded on the beach. I'm worried, Captain Hornigold, and I'd like to know they're all right. And I'd like to know if Flint got his Spanish gold. They may be doing fine, but they may need help. And if they need help, there is no way of getting word to us. She paused a moment, then reluctantly asked the question she did not want to ask, “What can I do?"

He leaned back in his chair. "Cathy, I know what you're asking. I don't think there's any captain with a ship moored in Nassau that would be willing to help you. They have their own interests to look after. It would take time to get my ship fitted to make the voyage, if I were willing, which I am inclined not to be." He held up his hand as she started to object, "There are many inlets and places where the Spaniard would have headed to take on water. We could spend days searching before we even got close. It's best to wait for your brother to return home, I know you don't like to hear this, but it's the course of action I recommend."

She thanked him for his time, and cursed under her breath as she left his office. "Old woman, you've grown too soft. You should find a woman and raise a bunch of brats because that's all you're good for now. No wonder you're so angry at losing your precious fort, you're disinclined to do anything that requires action, you bastard."

She stomped into Eleanor's office and slammed the door behind her, saying, "God damn old men and their soft life. That bastard has a ship, he could help me. There'd be no taking on any risk, he's just too damn lazy. What if Flint and his crew are in danger, or stranded, or need help. Do they even have a ship left? "

"So what did he tell you?" Eleanor spoke cautiously, Cathy, like her brother, was prone to lash out if provoked. The Flint temper was legendary, she had once told her.

"He told me no, politely and with many excuses and rationalizations, but the ultimate answer was no. I have no idea how to do this. I grew up around ships, brigs, barks, schooner, man-o-wars, but I know nothing about anything else. So I'm left where I was before, unless my lover," she emphasized the word, "Decides that he will graciously help me, whatever his inclination. And speaking of lover, what happened with the little captain?"

"We came to an agreement. She wasn't happy with the terms, but she seems confident that she can build upon it and improve them. She can take her cargo to Port Royal for all I care, though I could use the money. By the way, she asked me about you and Charles." Eleanor's lips curled as she waited eagerly for Cathy's reaction.

"Hmmm," Cathy sat back in her chair and smiled, "I must have made quite an impression on her."

"Oh, I can assure you that you did," Eleanor rose and poured two glasses of rum. She handed one to Cathy, "She must be used to having success with men, you caught her quite off guard. She didn't expect you or what followed. I told her the truth: that you were lovers of long standing and Charles quite doted on you. I also told her that Charles would gladly kill anyone who even tried to touch you, that he was jealous of you beyond reason, which left her quite speechless. The expression on her face was delightful."

Cathy laughed, "So of course you didn't tell her about you, though you and Charles seemed to have grown more distant over time. He's still quite fond of you, he probably always will be, and I'm quite fond of you myself."

Eleanor put her arms around Cathy's waist. "And I'm rather fond of you. Now, since Captain Hornigold has turned you down, which I hoped that he wouldn't, who are we going to get to help us. Cathy, I've waited long enough for Flint, I too, worried for his safety. The Walrus has managed its share of storms, so too has the Ranger, but any ship can be destroyed, no matter how good her seamen. That storm was a ship killer, I want to find out if Flint and his men are all right. So who do you think we could turn to? Who would be willing to search the coast of Florida for us?"

"What about me?" came a voice from behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep wondering if Cathy and Eleanor have slept together. They're both quite mum on the subject, but I wonder.


	13. To Find a Treasure

Cathy and Eleanor turned to see who was speaking. Theodora Sutter was stood in the open doorway, waiting.

"Why not me?" She repeated.

Cathy and Eleanor looked at each other, then gestured Captain Sutter inside, shutting the door behind them. Eleanor pulled a chair up to the desk, and Cathy poured a glass of rum for the newcomer.

"Sit down," she directed, then she and Eleanor seated themselves. "Now, please tell me what you've heard, all of what you've heard."

Theodora took a sip of rum, then looked from one to the other. "What I've heard of your conversation, or what I've heard around Nassau?" She said cannily.

"Both," said Eleanor, thinking to herself that this woman was no fool, "I want to hear all that you know, all of it."

"Well, it seems to be common knowledge that Captain Flint, your brother, that is," she directed this to Cathy, "Went in pursuit of a treasure galleon. And that he blew apart the Andromache trying to get her guns to help him do it."

"The truth is the captain of the Andromache blew up his ship to keep my brother from getting her guns. Flint also managed to rescue thirty seven slaves in her hold that were destined for sale in the market in South Carolina. And he did manage to get a few of the guns, though not as many as he wanted." Cathy took a deep drink of her rum, then set her glass hard on the desk. In spite of her love-hate relationship with her brother she always seemed to find herself defending him, even when that was not her intention.

Theodora shrugged, "Well, that's the story anyway. All anyone really knows is that he found a map of the treasure route, and on the basis of that he decided to try to capture the galleon that carried it. I would imagine that the two of you know more of the truth than anyone else in Nassau. I have a brother, too, Miss Flint…"

"My god, don't call me that, call me Cathy. I've not been Miss Flint for several years. I was Miss Flint to my family, I was Miss Flint to the fortune hunters who wanted to marry me, I won't be Miss Flint again, ever."

Theodora shrugged, Cathy certainly seemed to be defensive. She wondered if it were due to the events of the previous night, or nature. If she was difficult, Charles Vane did not seem to mind. She had seen the look of longing on his face when she walked into the inn, and knew that she did not stand a chance against the woman in the rose pink gown.

"Is it for our brothers' sake that you would help me? Or the half million pounds worth of gold and silver that the Urca carries?" Cathy looked hard at her, "If it were a simple rescue mission, I would accept your offer without hesitation. As it is, I'd like to accept it, and I'm not outright refusing it, but I think there is too much danger to bring in a ship and a full crew."

"Have you ever been on a treasure expedition before? Have you ever been around pirates with treasure fever? It's not pretty, on the contrary, it's deadly. There's two crews of pirates and a captain who will not want to share the loot with anyone but themselves. And loyal though your crew may be, once they get a glimpse of gold, they'll be willing to fight and kill for it. I know that when my brother gets near gold he turns into a madman. He'll sacrifice ship, crew, and even me. Vane would do the same."

"I know my crew," insisted Theodora stubbornly, but Cathy interrupted.

"You know your crew as they are now, unless you've hunted treasure, you don't know your crew when they have gold fever on them. I want to accept your offer, but it may present more trouble than help. I was hoping for a small boat crewed by a few people, the fewer the better. All I wanted was to find out if they were okay and what they needed to get back to Nassau. Keep in mind I may have to accept your offer, but if I do it's a risk, more so for you than me. No matter what, I'm still Flint's little sister. I don't need any of his haul from the Urca, I'm rich in my own right."

"Well, do let me know what you decide to do." Theodora drained her glass, then made her farewells and left. Both women watched her go, both had the same question on her mind.

"What do you think?" said Cathy, "What's her motive? Is her generosity motivated by having been caught red handed with my man, or does she have her eyes on the prize? It's a lot of money. If her crew were to agree to it, they could be a threat, a considerable one. If she knows about the treasure, I don't doubt that she'd like to get her hands on some or all of it."

"I don't know what she's thinking, Cathy. We don't have many options, but this one might do more harm than good. Talk to Charles, see what he says. And in the meantime, all we can do is keep a weather eye on the horizon. Flint and his men may return without our help. All we can do is be patient.

"I will talk to Charles, I think. Why should she make such a generous offer? If she has something devious and underhanded in mind, which I think she does, Charles might guess what it is. And since it's common knowledge that Flint was after Spanish treasure, I'm sure she would have heard of it. I think she's up to something, her sudden generosity doesn't make sense, especially since there is no reason for it."

"And maybe that reason is…" Eleanor said.

"She's after the treasure," said Cathy, "Tell me, how was the haul she brought?"

"It wasn't bad, even considering the size of her ship. She could have come to Nassau legitimately, and then heard about Flint and the Urca, and decided to see if she could get the treasure for herself."

Cathy rose and drained the last few drops of rum in her glass. "Or maybe she already knew. I'm talking to Charles. We know pirates, we deal with them, but we aren't pirates, who better than a pirate to know what she might be up to? Besides, if I try to take off to find Flint on my own, Charles will to stop me. I might as well try to hold him to his promise to help me. I think Flint needs our help, that storm was too bad, he'd be lucky if either ship survived. He might need help with the gold, he might have no way of getting home. I'll ask Charles and see what he thinks."

The sky was bright and clear, a brilliant blue, the limestone fort stood like a grey monolith against it. Cathy shaded her eyes to see who was up on the walls, and smiled when she saw Longbeard looking down at her. She raised her arm and waved, for she liked the man in spite of the fact that Vane had appointed him her unwanted bodyguard.

"Ahoy, Red," he shouted, using his nickname for her, "Have ye come to see the captain, then?"

"Aye," she said, falling unconsciously into the lexicon she had grown so familiar with since she came to Nassau, "Is the master about?"

"Well, if he's not, I can keep ye company, lass, maybe better than him," he grinned ferociously, and she laughed.

"Belay that," growled Vane, suddenly appearing, "Cathy! What are you doing here?"

"Well, let me join you and I'll tell you." She went unhindered into the fort and up the stairs that led to the walls that had been built to withstand bombardment even from the most powerful cannons a ship might carry.

She took his and said, "Let's walk." They went to her favorite spot, where the harbor could be seen, filled with ships bearing flags that may have been from their country of origin, or maybe not.

In the distance clouds were forming, not many as yet, but there was sure to be more. Another storm, thought Cathy and her heart sank, another storm was what she and Flint did not need.

Of course if it sank Theodora Sutter's galleon, that would be a good thing.

Vane stood behind her and put his arms around her waist. She stood there, enjoying his nearness, the feel of him. She hated to break their reverie, but she needed his wisdom, the pirate's wisdom, the information he would never hesitate to share with her.

"Vane, I need your advice," she turned in his arms, now facing him.

"Well, well, Cathy Flint asking my advice. I must admit, dear girl, I did not see this day coming." He laughed his wicked laugh, and she punched him in the shoulder.

"Bastard," she said, "Enjoy it while it lasts, for it may not happen again." She grew serious, "Your new friend came by Eleanor's office today and made me a very strange offer." She waited for his response.

"Ah yes, the blond. Did you tell her I've grown to prefer redheads these days? And what was her offer by the way?"

"She offered to help me find Flint, which both Eleanor and I thought very strange. She has no reason to do me any favors, but she seemed very eager to be of help. And so, voila, here I am, asking you what you think."

Vane grew thoughtful, "What did you tell her"? he said.

"Neither yes, nor no, not even a definite maybe. I pointed out that if her men decided they wanted a share of the treasure, my brother would not be inclined to give it, that things could even get bloody. She was strangely unresponsive to that, just asked me to think about it, then left. I don't trust her, Eleanor doesn't trust her, and I've no intentions of saying 'yes', but I wanted to hear what you think."

"Well, if it was me, I'd certainly consider holding you for ransom and forcing Flint to turn over the loot for your freedom. We both know it wouldn't be that simple, she must have missed hearing about the legendary Flint temper. He'd try to kill her, rescue you, then take out as many of her crew as he could. But it could be on her mind to try to kidnap you, there could be a tidy profit made from it."

"Kidnap—I don't like the sound of that. I could just as easily wind up being dead as being ransomed. Then it is the treasure she's after," she paused for a moment, "So what do we do? Encourage her to leave, try to keep her from leaving? I fear that if I try to hunt down my brother I can expect to see her following."

"For now, you and Eleanor must try to keep her here. If she asks you for a decision, waver, give her no definite answer. If she thinks she's more clever than you are, she'll find she's mistaken. Flint will be all right for a while, there's probably fresh water, fish, and game available, if he needs rescuing he can wait a while longer."

Cathy looked out towards the horizon where the clouds had now gathered in earnest. The sun was hidden and the sky had turned a steely grey. Whitecaps interrupted the still waters of the lagoon and the little waves that usually nipped the shore were growing larger.

"The storm's coming in," she said, and as she spoke the rain started to pour down, turning into sheets of water accompanied by bolts of lightning and booming thunder.

"Better to stay here tonight," Vane said, "You'll be soaked to the skin by the time you get to your rooms. We'll eat with the men, they want a closer look at the captain's woman. Your guard dog will be there (a not so kind referral to Longbeard, she thought, but there was a sort of accuracy to it) so you need not fear for your safety."

"And who will protect me from you?" she countered, but though he knew the truth in what she said, he only smiled.

She woke early the next morning, unable to sleep. She wrapped Charles' shirt around her and went to the window to open the shutter. The storm had not been as bad as she feared. There was debris on the beach, a few skiffs had washed ashore, but with the exception of a few pots overturned, and a shutter blown here and there, the storm had not proved to be destructive, only a minor nuisance.

She looked out to the harbor to see if any ships had been torn from their anchorage. She picked up Charles' spyglass and surveyed the scene, naming each ship as she identified it, seeing that none had sustained much more damage than a torn sail here and there. She looked for the galleon with its bright and gaudy paint, but it was nowhere in sight.

"Son of a bitch," she exclaimed, "she didn't even wait for her payout." She was about to call for Charles, but he'd appeared at her side. He took the spyglass from her, seeing what she had, then snapped it shut.

"Do you think she's on the hunt?" Cathy put her arm around him.

He nodded. "She knows now it's truth, not rumor, and she wants to get her hands on that gold. She'll leave the profits from her prize behind, she's hunting bigger fish. This isn't unexpected, but I didn't expect it so soon. If you want to find your brother, you may get your wish. She has plenty of guns and men—fresh men. Let's hope Flint is in a position to defend himself if he needs to—she still has to scout the shoreline to find him."

"My brother is pretty good at self-preservation. I'm sure she thinks she's more than his match, but let's not leave this to chance. When you go after him, or her, will you take me with you, please?"

"We'll see," said Charles and put his arm around her slender waist. Suddenly a chill ran down his spine as a thought came to him. "Cathy, I want you to promise me something—don't go anywhere without Smythe."

"Oh, you mean Longbeard," she said mischievously, "How can I take him to our beach with me. You're not likely to want him to see me without…"

"Then you'll just have to wait," his voice grew stern, then urgent, "You don't know her intentions. She may have left men behind with the idea of taking you hostage. I want you to stay with me at the fort. I'll feel better with you close to me where I know you'll be safe."

"I don't want to stay here, you can't keep me locked up like a prisoner. I want to go back to my rooms."

"If you make me lock you up, Cathy, I will. If you don't have the good sense to be worried for your safety, then I'll have to worry for both of us. I'll ask Eleanor to bring what you need, but from now on you'll stay here until I know you're safe."

"All right Vane, I surrender, for now. If you're so sure she's such a threat, I'll humor you, for now. I think the treasure is more on her mind than I am, and that galleon of hers will need her full complement of men. But don't count on me being cooperative for long." She threw on her skirt and blouse and headed towards the door, when she felt him grab the neck of her blouse.

"Just where do you think you're going?" he asked.

"Nowhere," she said, sulking like a thwarted child.

He plucked at her clothes, "Then you won't need these," and removed them in one fluid movement.


	14. Rose Pink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's May and hot weather has come to Caribbean. Cathy slips from Charles' bed and escapes to her room to sleep alone. She begins to have a nightmare--the tide has not yet come in, ships are waiting for the tide to turn so that they can slip into the harbor. In her dream, Cathy sees a ship that she hopes she never will, and upon waking, runs to her window to see if her fears will be realized. They are, for there is the ship the "Rose Pink", the ship of Ned Low who she had hoped she would never see again.
> 
> Though it has the same characters, the little piece of "smut" (which, I confess, I like to write once in a while) that's posted separately from my main story, will not, I repeat, will not, be integrated into this. No way. Just every so often a girl just wants to have fun

This contains a little bit of a spoiler, but the character in question has already been mentioned in one of the "Black Sails" trailers.

Historical fact: Ned Low and Charles Vane were real, and among the most evil of men to sail under the black, maybe not the worst of the pirates, but they earned their reputations. Look either one up on Wikipedia and you'll find out just how bad they were. It makes me wonder how Eleanor—or Cathy—could love Charles Vane.

 

The hot weather of May had set in, and Cathy was finding it harder to sleep. The night was taking longer to cool and the mosquito netting—put there by Vane for her comfort—seemed to stifle her, making the air close and hard to breathe.

I can't stay here, I can't sleep, she thought. She cast the netting aside and pulled on the loose sack gown she had taken to wearing again. It should have made her more comfortable, but instead the silk stuck to the sweat that beaded her body. Her braid hung heavily down her back, providing yet more discomfort, and she wanted to slash both hair and dress with Charles' knife.

Charles. She turned to look at him, wondering how long it would take him to notice she was gone. She froze in place as she heard him moan, then turn over as if to reach out for her, only to stretch his hand to her pillow, unaware and unawake, giving her the chance to leave.

I'm tired of him, she thought suddenly. Cathy turned to look at Charles, wondering why she hadn't realized it before. It wasn't even his infidelities, it was simply that she realized that he was the same man she had met at seventeen, yet nothing seemed to change or touch him.

And she was tired of accommodating him. Tired even, at least for the moment, of him. She would not find it easy to leave, he had become a habit, someone she was used to, but the fire and the passion seemed to fade now by the day. Funny how she hadn't noticed it until now, or had she?

He had committed the unforgivable sin of forcing himself on her again. True, she had surrendered, as she always did, and it had not happened in a while, but right now when she looked at him she hated him. And hated herself more, knowing that if he summoned her again to his bed, but she might weaken and say yes.

She wanted to return to Genoa. The Italian ports were no more than a different version of Nassau, but she wanted, no she craved, a change of scenery. It would not be hard to get there, all she had to do was find passage to Port Royal, then she could board a ship to England or Boston, and thence to Italy. No, the only hard part was that Charles would not want to let her go.

Dawn was not far off, Charles' room was deep in shadows. She slipped on her sandals and left Charles to wonder where she was in the morning. The courtyard was almost empty, some of the men lay sleeping on the warm stones, some had slung hammocks in doorways, but most of the inhabitants of the fort escaped to the beach for relief from the heat. Her rooms at the inn were blessedly cool, shaded from the sunlight by the palms and jacarandas that grew in profusion. She'd strip off her dress and lay on top of her sheets until at last the night air cooled off…

"Excuse me missy, what might ye be doing?" Damn, Long Beard had drawn night watch. His loyalty lay to his captain and his lady, and he would be loyal until death. Long Beard would try to send her back to Charles, but she was determined not to go. She would have to find a bargaining chip, or be very persuasive, to convince the giant man to let her leave the fort.

"I want to go home, I'm too hot and I can't sleep. Please, let me go, Charles won't blame you, you know that to be true. It's me he'll be angry at. He'll take it out on me, not you. He knows that if he touches you because of me I won't speak to him again." Or at least for a while, she thought grimly.

An idea came to her, not a great one, but one that might do in a pinch. "Tell you what, why don't we play a game of dice? If you win, I go back upstairs; if I win, you let me go. Do we have an accord?" She held out her hand, waiting to see if he'd shake on the deal.

"Nah, Miss Cathy, you're a devil with the dice. You rarely lose, and what you lose you soon win back. You know it's not safe, the men out there won't care if you're Vane's woman or not. You best go back upstairs and go home in the morning. The captain won't be pleased if I let you go."

"Then find me a knife and pistol, and I can defend myself. It's too hot for a man to be out prowling in this heat. I'll wager there's not even much carousing going on at the tavern—besides it's too late. And I know the secret ways through town, I know how to escape notice. Just give me a knife, and a pistol and shot, and I'll be fine."

"This one time I'll accommodate you, Red, but just this once. This heat is a bear, that's for sure. You can handle the captain, or what he decides to dish out when he sees you've disobeyed him. I'm counting on you to stand up for me, the captain doesn't like it much when you're mad at him, though I don't know why. You and that Eleanor Guthrie are banshees if you don't get your way." He lumbered off, then returned with the arms she had asked for. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and scampered out the gate before the big man changed his mind.

After the close air of Charles' room, the muggy night air seemed cool by comparison. The hour had grown late, but from somewhere she could hear carousing on the beach. The stench of tar, human, refuse, and offal met her nose, and she wondered how she could have become so accustomed to it, but it was not so different from any other port in the world. It was just the lack of wind, and the heat, and her weariness that made her notice it more.

She stole through the warrens she knew now by heart. No one paid much attention to her, not the whores who turned tricks in the filthy alleys, not the beggars who slept sound, rum soaked dreams. Her pistol was primed and ready to shoot; but no one accosted her, as if they knew that it would take little persuasion for her to put a bullet through their head. She'd almost welcome that diversion, she thought, anything to put Charles out of her head.

She heard footsteps behind her and ducked into a dark place in the alley, the pistol in her hand at the ready. Holding her breath, not wishing to make a sound, she watched in silence as two drunken pirates staggered past, not even seeing her. When they were safely past she exhaled, then ran quietly to her rooms, and locked the door behind her.

Her dreams were full of disturbing images. She fancied that she could see the ships at rest, bobbing up and down in the waters, waiting for the tide change to sail into the little bay. A lone seabird flew overhead, crying out in that eerie way that seabirds do, high, harsh, cutting, almost like a portent. Something was about to happen, something not good.

One ship made its way amongst the others, a brigantine like so many others that pirates favored, but this one seemed different. Instead of a figurehead, elaborately carved roses graced the prow. Roses painted not red, but a deep pink that matched the color of a tropical sunset. Underneath the carvings ran the words:

ROSE PINK

Cathy sat up, drenched in sweat. No, she told herself, it was only a dream. I haven't seen that ship in years, it can't be him. Oh god, don't let it be him, please. This is just a bad dream I am having because I am mad at Charles and worried about Flint. She turned over and went back to sleep.

She slept well past first light. I should sleep alone more often, she thought wryly, as she stretched, feeling rested for the first time in days. She went to the window and threw open the shutters to see which ships had come into port.

The harbor was busy, bristling with masts. Since she knew most of the ships that put in at Nassau, it had become her habit to try to identify newcomers. So far, so good, no one new in port, she thought. Until she saw it.

There was no mistaking that ship, she laid anchor so close to shore that it was possible to read her name on the prow. No, she thought, it can't be. She read the name once, twice, three times, but there it was. There it was, indeed.

She threw on her dress, not bothering with shoes, and ran to Eleanor's office, not caring if anyone was with her. She went to the spyglass and looked out, seeing the familiar rose carvings and the ornate letters on the prow. "Rose Pink", the letters read. She sat down in Eleanor's chair, not knowing if she wanted to laugh or cry.

Cry, became the answer when Charles, Eleanor, and a stranger who was no stranger at all, came into the office. Ned Low, captain of the Rose Pink, stood before her. Just as she remembered him, the light brown hair, blue eyes that would have been lovely on a better man, only one of the eyes was glass, and cast a fearsome visage. He looked as cruel as his reputation, and that reputation was well earned.

"Cathy," Charles' voice drew her out of her reverie, "Where were you this morning?"

"Home in my bed, alone and sleeping. No one around me but me." She looked defiantly at Charles, as if to say, "And what are you going to do about it?"

"Ned, I want you to meet Cathy Flint, sister of James Flint of the Walrus. Cathy deigns to make Nassau her home when she feels so inclined." Charles looked at her, what is wrong with you, written plainly over his face.

"Ah, but I've made Miss Flint's acquaintance, what was it? Perhaps two years ago?" Low made a mock bow and made to kiss her hand, but she jerked it away, not caring how rude it might appear.

"What?" Charles looked from one to the other, while Eleanor covered her mouth to suppress a smile. "How?"

"It was before I went to Cuba," explained Cathy, "I think it was on the way to Port Royal."

"No, it was off the Azores, you were sailing on the Genoan vessel the Bravo and she was putting in for water and more food. You threatened to blow my head off, as I recall."

"Oh, I recall all right." Cathy remembered the Bravo being assailed by the Fancy, as he was sailing then. She knew Low by reputation, and was determined that nothing should stand in her way to reach Genoa—and she had no intention of relinquishing any or all of the loot she had stolen from the Cuban viceroy.

She'd warned the captain not to deal with Low, and to ready his guns for a volley just in case. "Let me take care of him," she'd said, not really knowing what she would do. She loaded two pistols, covered her guns with her shawl, then took a deep breath and went up to join the captain on deck.

"He's not going to deal with you, Low, and neither am I. You get your scum off this ship and let us go on our way, or…

"Or what," he said mockingly.

She let her shawl slip from her shoulders. "Or I blow your head off. If I miss with one, I'll not miss with the other. And since I never miss anyway, I'll still have a shot left for the next idiot who tries to harm me, or the captain. I had two very good teachers, my brother and Charles Vane. I used to have to practice for hours, but I must say it did pay off."

"Well, damn me, you're Cathy Flint! I heard you ran away from Charles Vane, but aren't you supposed to be in Cuba?"

"As far as you're concerned, I'm supposed to be in hell. Give me a reason to shoot you, please. I've heard about you, and what I've heard I don't like. I wouldn't test me if I were you. Genoans have a reputation for being fierce. This crew might not be such easy prey."

"You really would shoot me, wouldn't you, Miss Flint?" He shoved his gun into his belt, "Well, tell you what, since I'm rather fond of my head, I'd rather not have it blown off. But you owe me for this, and I collect on my debts. And I know the Bravo's guns are loaded and pointed at my ship right now. If you were a man, I'd press gang you and bring you onto my ship, for you are absolutely fearless. No wonder Vane is searching high and low for you. Shall I tell him where I found you?" he smiled, his bad eye giving him a evil look which had been know to make men cower.

Only she was no man. "Tell Vane what you like, or don't tell him, I don't care. No man owns me, I do as I like." She hefted her guns, the steel like muscles in her arms showing that she was more than capable of firing one or both of the deadly looking guns. "But I will promise you that your men will be electing a new captain, if any of them are left alive, that is, if you and your scalawags don't leave this ship—now!"

He swept her a mocking bow. "I like you, Cathy Flint, I hope to make your acquaintance again soon. Agreed, my men and I leave the ship, you go on your way and I leave you alone. But you owe me, and I intend to collect."

She'd watched as the pirates left, and went on their way, only then dropping her guns and fainting. She'd woke in her cabin to the presence of the grateful captain, who wasted no time telling her just how lucky she had been.

And now Ned Low stood before her, and she was grateful for Vane's presence. How much have you told him, she thought, I certainly didn't become a legend for talking you off the Bravo. I amused you, I think, but you knew I was not bluffing when I said I would shoot you. But how much does Charles know? You didn't expect to see me, I'm sure of it, I saw it in your face, but what am I going to do about you if you decide to make trouble for me?

She let her knees buckle a little, and grabbed onto Eleanor's desk for support. She looked up at Charles, her most wistful expression on her face. Immediately, he was at her side, supporting her.

"Charles, I don't feel well, could you take me home?" He swept her up into his arms and carried her up the stairs, while she stared at Ned Low, her look plainly saying, "If you have any intention to interfering in my life, forget it. He won't let you and you know it." She nestled her head on Charles' shoulder and felt safe—for the moment, but something told her that moment would not last.


	15. A Proper Crazy Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles asks Cathy about her first encounter with Ned Low and is duly impressed when she tells him that she was indeed going to blow his head off if he didn't allow the Bravo to go on its way. The day is hot and she decides to go and bathe in  
> the place that Charles showed her. She is enjoying the cool water, imagining that she could become the naiad of the pool when she looks up and sees Ned Low sitting on her dress and bath sheet. He asks and she allows him to see her, then he offers to help her find Flint, an offer she turns down. She agrees to meet him at an inn at a secluded place on the island, providing he will not reveal to Charles what happens. He finds he admires both her beauty and her courage and wonders what lays in store.

Vane dropped Cathy unceremoniously onto her bed. “So, you’ve met Ned Low? And threatened to blow his head off and lived? Not many would live to tell that tale.” He stood over her, hands on his hips. “Well?” he demanded.

“There’s not a lot to tell, Charles. It was a bluff that paid off, that’s all. I had a lot at stake. And the safety of the Bravo’s crew to consider.” What do you think you’re doing, she wanted to ask him as he pulled off her dress. She wanted to push him away, but trying to fight him off never did any good.

“Were you truly going to shoot him?” He paused then pulled off his shirt. Just when he thought he knew everything there was to know about Cathy, he would find himself surprised. She was like an undiscovered country, always something new, always something unexpected.

“Yes I was, unequivocally. I didn’t want to see the crew massacred, or have my loot stolen, or be kidnapped for his toy until he got tired of me, and sold me in a slave market. Billy Bones gave me a brace of pistols, along with powder and shot before I left, and I kept them in my portmanteau. And I kept a knife in my corset, when I wore one. But yes, I would have shot him, gladly. I didn’t know what would happen, I had everything to gain, and nothing to lose. I was determined that I was not going to lose anything to this pirate.” She sank onto the bed, rolling away from him.

He knew the signal. He drew her to him, holding her, gentling her. “You’re lucky you’re alive, you know, but you probably impressed him. You are absolutely the most crazy, the most reckless, the most careless, the most stubborn, the most fearless woman that I've ever known. You Flints must be a tough breed, you are very like your brother; sometimes. I think madness must run in your family.

She smiled. Tears had formed in the corners of her eyes and he brushed them away. “Oh, yes, we Flints are mad as hatters," she said, " I’m sure my brother would even agree if he had enough rum in him. And speaking of my brother, I’m going to try to find him, with your help or without. I’m worried, it’s been too long since we had word. I’m tired of waiting, and I’m going to do something about it.”

“We’ll see,” he answered, but noted the determination in her voice. Before she could object, he told her softly, “Be quiet,” and silenced her lips with his. Soon neither were in the mood for talking.

An hour later he left, and in post coital bliss she felt more kindly inclined towards him. The problems had not been solved, but in bed they seemed to find a truce. She found it more pleasing to feel agreeable, than to feel resentful and angry.

She opened the shutters again, hoping foolishly that the Rose Pink might have magically disappeared. She was disappointed, but not surprised to see her bobbing up and down with the movements of the waves. Seeing Ned Low had reminded her of just how lucky she was, as if she had been blessed by a good fairy in her cradle, that she would always escape misfortune.

But luck never held out, and must never be solely relied upon. Ned Low was not here because of her, but now that he knew she resided in Nassau, he would no doubt attempt to take care of old business. It was her luck, along with two loaded pistols in her hand, that had persuaded him to release the Genovese ship. He’d also known that his death was staring him in his face, and he was not yet ready to meet the devil that day. And, no doubt, she’d also appealed to his humor despite her deadly intentions.

She went down to the brothel and allowed Max to give her a bath and wash her tangled hair. She liked being ministered to by Max, and if the madame’s hands or fingers occasionally strayed where they should not, Cathy didn’t really mind. That was just Max’s, or any of the other whore’s for that matter, ways.

“You are quiet, Cherie, too quiet, what has Charles done now?” Max rubbed her shoulders, trying to loosen Cathy’s tight muscles. “When are you going to get away from him.”

“Someday, I don’t know. I’m not feeling angry right now, I have other things on my mind. Like finding my brother. I have to find a ship’s captain that would be willing to explore the Florida coast, and I don’t know how long that will take. I never found out what route Flint planned to take, it was that damn Silver holding the cards too close to his chest. If I knew where to look, that would at least be a place to start. I’m worried about my brother.”

Max rubbed coconut oil into Cathy’s red hair and began to comb it out. “If you really want to find your brother, I have a few trusted friends I can talk to. It will cost you, how much, I don’t know.”

“But I can afford it. Max, Ned Low is in town. I’ve had some dealings with him before and that’s trouble I don’t need. I want to find Flint, then I’m going back to Italy. If Eleanor wants Charles, she can have him, she’s welcome to him. I won’t feel safe until I’m as far away from the Caribbean as I can get.”

“I’m rich, I have the means at my disposal to do anything I want. There’ll be trouble here with the English someday, and that day is not fall off. I think Richard Guthrie will help me if I ask him—I’m probably the only person in Nassau who he’s willing to speak to. With the likes of Ned Low and Charles Vane in port, this place is too hot for me. I want to sit and drink a coffee on a piazza in Florence and visit the Tuscan hills.”

“There,” said Max as she finished untangling Cathy’s hair, “I don’t know why you feel you need to leave, Cherie, you are capable of taking care of yourself. Why the fear? Maybe once you find your brother you’ll quit all this crazy talk about running away. Do you want me to braid your hair for you?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll pin it up later or braid it myself.” She kissed Max, “I really do think it’s time for me to leave Nassau, but one thing at a time. First I find my brother, then I’ll decide the rest.”

Max watched Cathy leave, her hips swaying provocatively. “Cathy, you’re in trouble, aren’t you? I hope you know what you are doing,” she said softly, then ordered her maid to empty the tub.

 

The afternoon was as hot as the night would be. Few of the vendors sat in the open air. If they could not find shade they went home. Even the birds perched in the trees, too listless to fly about or sing or squawk. It was only early May, and the weather would grow only hotter.

Cathy sat on her veranda, shaded and cool, but restless. She hoped that Eleanor and Vane were keeping Low occupied, anything to keep him from her. It would not be hard to find her, and any moment she expected to hear a knock at the door, and open it to find a glass-eyed pirate.

Devil with this, she thought, I’m not staying here. She rolled up a bath sheet and made her way to the little waterfall. She stripped off her dress, then waded into the middle of the pool and swam to the falls. She stood under them, enjoying the feel of the cool water as it fell on her body.

I will stay here forever, she thought, I will become the naiad of the pool and work my magic and charm a young man into becoming my mate and we will live here forever. The sound the falls made was sweet, and here the birds sang as if they knew they had found the coolest place on the island. Outside was heat, chaos, and blood, but here was the spell of the waterfall, and sanctuary.

Until she wandered back into the middle of the pool. Ned Low sat on her dress and bathsheet, staring at her openly. She started to cross her hands over her breasts, but he said, “No, don’t, I want to see you.”

Trapped, she changed tactics. She lifted her arms so that she could wring the water out of her hair, showing her breasts to their full advantage. She stared at him, her eyes meeting his good one and holding his gaze. She let go of her hair and shook it over her shoulders, then stood, a proud water nymph, fully capable of pulling him under the water and drowning him.

“How did you find me?”

“Do you think you and Charles are the only ones who know about this place? It's well known that this is Cathy Flint's exclusive retreat. Vane must have laid down the law for you to be able to bathe here unmolested.” He paused, looking her over, “God, you must have driven Vane mad when you left. I would have tied you naked to my bed and locked the door, and beaten you if you'd even considered it. There is no way you would have slipped from my hands like you did his.”

“Maybe that’s why I left him—I didn’t like being beaten, or owned. I was tired of it. I thought when I came back to Nassau after being gone for so long he would have gotten smarter, but he hasn't.”

“So you let that luscious Eleanor Guthrie share him with you? You’re not jealous?”

She chose not to let him bait her. “No, I'm not jealous, I never have been." Not quite the truth but close to it. "I want to come to shore, Low, and I’m not going to stand around naked for your benefit. I’m also not going to let you chase me down the beach like this.”

“No? I think I'd rather enjoy that. Come here, then” he replied, and held up the bath sheet. She left the safety of the pool and let him wrap her in the bath sheet. She pulled away from him and began to dry herself off. There wasn’t much he would try, and both knew it. She was still Vane’s woman, and Charles was not stupid. If she complained that Ned Low had taken liberties with her, it was a matter that would have to be settled, or he knew she would be gone for good. He might cheat on her with Eleanor Guthrie, but he still considered her his exclusive property.

She dropped the sheet and pulled on her dress, knowing all the while of the lust in the good eye of Ned Low. He still had his frightening visage, but he was better looking than she remembered. She also remembered the story of his having a wife and child that were lost in childbirth. 

“I’m going,” she announced abruptly, “And if you want to be on my good side, then you don’t tell Charles you saw me naked.”

“Done,” he agreed, paused a moment, then asked the question, “Cathy, is it true that you want to find your brother?”

She wasn’t surprised, it was commonly known that sooner or later she’d go after Flint if he did not turn up in Nassau soon. “Yes, but if you want to offer me your help, I’ll have to turn you down. I imagine there’s already been one bloodbath on that beach. When I do find Flint and his haul, he’ll not be over eager to share—though he knows I won’t help him for free, not with this.”

He took her arm, and had the sense to do it gently. “I know someone who might help you. Do you know of a little inn called “The Pearl”?”

“Yes, yes I do. I’ve drunk there a few times when I didn’t want Charles to find me.”

He laughed, “Why does that not surprise me? Meet me there at midnight, then, if you can shake Charles off. There’s someone I think you may want to meet.”

“And what of my debt, Ned? “

“Oh, never fear. I’m thinking of ways for you to pay it off. I told you I always collect on my debts, now didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did, but right now I don’t particularly care. I’ve got more important concerns.” She picked up her bath sheet, “And now I’m going. Don’t come with me,”she said as he started to follow, “I don’t need an escort…”

“And you don’t want Charles to see us. I swear, Miss Cathy, I’m surprised at your being afraid of him. You strike me as someone who’s braver than that.” He laughed as she hurried out of the little clearing. “Till we meet again, Mistress Cathy Flint,” he said softly.


	16. Billy Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flint sits on the beach pondering his fate, wishing that he had Cathy with him and not the cowardly John Silver. Cathy agrees to meet Low at a little-known smuggler's den outside of Nassau, and receives a surprise she did not expect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to throw in some corrections to the tv show, and a bit of info. Flint says his name is "James McGraw". If you've read "Treasure Island", you'll know that Flint's last words were "Darby McGraw, Darby McGraw", and something else, but I'd have to dig for the book to know. Also, but the time he plied the Caribbean, Ned Low's ship was the "Rose Pink", not the "Fancy", which was his previous ship. Dunno why they changed that, I think I have my facts right, but if anyone can correct me on this, I'll edit my story to reflect it

It did not bother Flint for people to think of him as a carpenter’s son, in fact, it added to his reputation. Far from a humble carpenter, his father had been hand-picked by the great Christopher Wren on the basis of his master carpenter skills and creativity. Some of the finest structures in London had the loving touch of his father, enabling him to amass a small fortune, and based on his reputation the money had enabled to marry the youngest daughter of a prominent merchant family.

Flint had run away from his strict father when he was just a youth. As a youngest son, he stood to inherit nothing and had no prospects, so the Royal Navy had seemed the best choice for an ambitious young man. As he grew older and showed his inherent ability, a friend of his father’s had purchased his commission, and he rose to the rank of lieutenant. With hard work he stood to go far, but young McGraw, the Flint someday to be, was not sure of what he wanted.

Except for the dark haired, dark eyed wife of Lord Hamilton. He wanted this woman, but was not prepared for how far he was willing to go to get her. Or what the consequences would be of having an affair with the wife of his best friend.

He sighed, breaking his train of thought. Right now he wished he had Cathy, not Silver to help him. Cathy was worth a dozen Silvers. She could swim like a mermaid, slip through the water as easily as a seal. And he knew he could trust Cathy to do as he said. Cathy, in her own way, was as ruthless as he. If she needed to slit a throat, she’d do it quietly and efficiently. She had hardened since coming to Nassau, but it had taught her to take care of herself. With this revelation, he realized he did not need to worry about her and Charles Vane, but god help Vane if he crossed her.

The Pearl was an inn where dark business was taken care of. It was far enough outside Nassau that no one came unless they had a purpose. The owner had been a fence before the Guthries had come to the island, now he traded in information and smuggling. Deals were made in the Pearl, blood oaths sworn and signed. You had to earn the proprietor’s trust, but once you did, and you paid in gold, the information he could give you could be better than what Eleanor Guthrie traded in.

A tall, slim youth stood in the doorway, a stocking cap on his head. He nodded his greetings to the proprietor, his eyes moved about, as if looking for someone or something. At last he seemed to find what he was looking for and came and sat at the table where Ned Low was downing his second mug of rum.

“All right, what do you have for me?” asked Cathy Flint, sitting down and taking a glass from a waitress. She filled it from the bottle that sat in front of Low, drank it down, and filled it again. “I want to know what you have for me,” she repeated, “I’d like to know I didn’t waste my time coming to a rundown dive like this.”

“Quiet,” he admonished her, “Don’t insult the owner. He’ll not allow you in again, will you Thomas.” The gap-toothed owner smiled.

“I’ve been coming here since before you came to the islands,” she retorted, “I don’t know everyone who comes in and out of this place, but I know a few. You aren’t allowed in the door without the owner’s permission, and that costs.”

“Yes, I find that interesting,” said Low, “Just how do you afford to maintain yourself? You dress in expensive fabrics, those earrings you wear are gold, and those are diamonds in them if I’m not mistaken. Not to mention that crucifix around your neck.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Now, didn’t I hear a story about a woman robbing the Cuban viceroy around the same time you fled Nassau? No one knew how she got away, she seemed to disappear. There were some Genoans who were in port at the time, but one ship slipped out ahead of schedule, though no one paid attention at the time. That must have been quite a feat, getting away with all that treasure, I must congratulate you on your cleverness.”

Cathy took a deep breath, holding in her temper. “And only one or two people got killed in the process, compared, say, to an entire ship’s company. You really shouldn’t cheat Eleanor out of the money for re-packing those barrels. You caused the bloody stains on the barrels, not her. You make life difficult for her, I'll make it miserable for you." She paused, weighing whether or not she should say what she was thinking, then threw caution to the wind, "Tell me, do you like to go to your cabin and jack off after murdering people? They say you have no remorse, I believe it.”

“Be careful, Miss Cathy, or…” he warned, but she cut him off.

“Or what? You’ll kill me? If you do, Charles or my brother will make you pay for that. You’re ruthless, but I’m that and more—I’m clever and I’m shrewd. I’ve taken lives, but only when I had no choice. You, on the other hand, have had every choice when it comes to most of the blood you’ve spilled. The biggest mistake I made with you was not killing you, so much for my moral compass. Now, I’m going to have to pay, but I got what I wanted out of it. I’ve learned lessons in Nassau you've never even guessed at. Whatever you decide to throw at me, I can survive it."

“I think I believe it, Miss Cathy. By the way, how did you escape Vane’s attentions tonight? Bribe his favorite whore into distracting him? Or did you finally decide to kill him? I wouldn’t blame you, you know.” Low smiled at her, and Cathy noticed the smile was not an unattractive one. Was he trying to win her over? His appearance must have been pleasing enough before he received the sword-cut on his eye. 

She wondered, as she often wondered with Charles, what had made him what he was. She pulled the cap from her head, allowing her hair to fall free from the knot she’d twisted it in. It spilled over the table, falling close to the floor. Low reached out to touch it, twisting a silky red lock around his finger before letting it go.

“I drugged him” she said, “It really wasn’t hard, just some valerian root mixed with opium poured into his rum. I could poison him if I wanted to, but he’s not worth the effort. I’ll be gone from here one day, and he’ll no longer be my problem, he’ll be Eleanor’s.”

Low laughed, and his face relaxed. “By god, Cathy, I don’t think I’d like to cross you. Eleanor Guthrie is a child by comparison. But fair’s fair, the reason I asked you to meet me here is there’s someone here you’ll want to see, I understand it’s been a long time.” He got up and walked to the back of the tavern, gesturing for her to follow him. He pointed to a figure sitting alone at a table. “Here, this is why I brought you here.” He turned around and left, leaving her to wonder if she should approach the stranger or not.

The figure raised his head and lifted the broad brimmed hat that had shadowed his face. “Hello Cathy,” he said, “It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it?” Billy Bones smiled at her his broad smile at her, and it was all she could do not to rush into his arms.


	17. Low in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned Low has found himself falling in love with Cathy Flint, a situation he did not foresee. He finds himself doing small things to curry her favor, and rejoices in the fact that she is quarreling, an extended quarrel, with Charles Vane. He even hooks her up with Billy Bones, who is not dead, but has taken refuge on the outskirts of Nassau. 
> 
> Cathy talks to Billy, wanting to enlist him to help her to find Flint, but he refuses. He reminds her of how resourceful her brother is, and to be patient because in Flint is in trouble he has a talent for finding his way out.
> 
> Ned at last is able to consummate his relationship with Cathy, but she lays down one rule: do not fall in love with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know that I foresaw this, Cathy letting Ned Low into her bed willingly. Somehow, though, I found them in bed together, and Cathy even a little happy about it. Just a little.

Something was happening to him that Ned Low had not counted on, nor had he foreseen it. All he knew was that it could possibly doom the enterprise he was setting up in Nassau with his new partner, Charles Vane.

He was falling in love with Cathy Flint.

The fact that she had recently quarreled with Charles and barely spoke to him was not helping matters much. Nor was the fact that the quarrel was lasting almost a month. When she frequented the inn that Eleanor owned, men would gather round her table. A dozen glasses of rum, of which she judiciously consumed only a few, would appear the moment she sat down. She laughed, talked, swore, sang, and the men sitting around her were as captivated as children. She had only to turn her head, and someone would ask if there might not be something she needed, not minding that he was rewarded only with a glorious smile.

The sack gowns she wore, so sensible in Nassau’s heat, draped her body like Grecian tunics. Their pale colors, pink, yellow, green, blue, contrasted with the gaudy reds and purples favored by the whores, making her seem something petite and delicate, in spite of the fact was one of the taller women on the island.

Low felt sorry for Charles Vane these days. The look of longing when he saw her was plain on his face, but she cruelly ignored him. Even though he seemed to be rising in Eleanor’s favour, it was clearly Cathy he wanted, Cathy he desired, but Cathy would not even look at him. Low did not know if they had quarreled over Eleanor, or one of the whores he favored, but if he had not lost her favor entirely, it seemed eminent.

He himself felt like a lovesick pup. Though matters were still to be settled between them, he found himself seeking ways to curry her favor. The jokes he’d tell to make her smile, the glasses of rum he’d send her way, the former seaman of Flint’s he’d discovered who did not come into Nassau, but preferred to stay on its outskirts. He found himself becoming uncharacteristically eager to please and that did not suit him, not at all.

When he’d walked away from her at the “Pearl”, he found himself experiencing pangs of jealousy. She greeted the seaman, one Billy Bones by name, with more enthusiasm than she ever greeted him. He’d planned to walk away and leave the two alone, but chose instead a dark, isolated corner where he could listen to them, but not be seen.

He couldn’t see them, he wondered if they were still holding hands. She was obviously well acquainted with the man, they seemed thick as thieves, talking and laughing. She was laughing right now, the way she laughed when she didn’t hold back—the way she laughed when she was happy. 

Right now she was putting a finger on Billy Bones’ cheek, tracing a new scar. He drained his glass and shoved his chair back. He didn’t want to see any more of this, he couldn’t take it.

“You’re no longer just a pretty face, Billy,” Cathy’s finger ran down the cut that marred his face, but not too much, she thought. The scar was not unflattering, it had transformed his pretty boy looks into something more interesting.

He gently took hold of her wrist and put her hand on the table. “You’re only flirtatious with me when you want something, Cathy. Out with it, then, what do you want from me?”  
She smiled, “I want to find my brother. I want to find him, get him back here, and then I’ll leave and never come back. No more Nassau, no more Flint, no more Charles Vane, I’m done, but not until I know Flint’s safe.”

It took him a moment to reply, trying to find the right words. “Cathy, he may not want to be found. Even if he lost the Walrus and the Ranger,” she looked up at him, alarmed, but he wasn’t going to mince words, not with her. “Even if he lost the Walrus,” he repeated, “If he has men and longboats, he could capture another ship. You know your brother, how single minded and ruthless he is, unless he drowned in the storm, in which case you could not find him anyway, he is the one man I know who could survive.”

Quiet tears were forming in the corners of her eyes, “But I can’t stand knowing nothing. And if he’s stranded, he will need help. And then, there’s always the gold…”

“Is that what this is about then, helping your brother get the gold? When Flint has gold fever on him, I would not want to get in his way. He won’t see you as help, he’ll see you as interference. You’ll be lucky if you see a hundred pesos of that gold. Listen to me, leave Flint to his own devices, you’re better off that way. And besides, you don’t want to be anywhere near the Spanish, it’s the noose for you if they catch you.”

“Hmmm.” It wasn’t much of a response, but it was obvious he was not going to help her. “I guess I do this on my own,” she said out loud, “I can’t think of anyone who I trust to help me if you won’t.”

Billy took her hands in his big ones. “Forget this, Cathy. Flint won’t need your help and you know it. When has he ever helped you?”

“He got me away from England, away from my parents, away from a marriage I didn’t want and a life I hated. He didn’t have to come for me, but he did.”

“Yet he’s not done much for you since. Look, I know the two of you, it’s an odd brother-sister bond I can’t quite fathom, but it’s there. Just be patient, and wait. I know it seems like a long time since he left Nassau, but for what he’s after, it’s not all that long. If you want to leave Nassau, now would be a good time. The Spanish will be pre-occupied with retrieving the Urca, and you can slip away unnoticed. You always talked about going back to Italy, now may be the time to do it.”

“But what if…” she began to object, but he cut her off.

“Cathy, do what you do best, think. Your brother was counting on the Urca being unescorted, and you insisted that would not happen because the Spanish do not allow their treasure ships to go unguarded. Now, remember that storm? That ship killer storm? Those storms often spell doom for treasure ships. Maybe she got destroyed in the storm, maybe the Walrus and the Ranger fared no better. Now think, who have you always said is the most clever pirate captain that you know?”

“My brother,” she replied, “Begrudgingly, my brother. Flint is clever, shrewd, and smart, if a little crazy, like me.”

Billy grinned, “Aye, the both of you are all of that. Now, assume that there was an escort ship, and that she was undamaged, or undamaged enough. The Urca is probably stranded on the beach, her cargo spilled over the sand. The Spanish are going to have guards on that treasure, and most of the crew is going to be salvaging every peso they can. The Spaniards will focus their attention on the treasure, and leave a minimal crew on the ship. What do you think will happen?”

“If Flint has any longboats left, and I’m sure that a few survived, he can get someone on board, probably him, and kill whoever’s standing guard before the main mast.” She smiled at Billy, “And what’s left of the crew will be waiting in the boats. I overheard Silver saying that he’s fluent in Spanish, and maybe one or two members of the crews can speak it, too. He explained to me once that it can be easier than it looks to take a ship under the right circumstances. So he may seize the man ‘o war escorting the Urca, yes?”

“Yes, and that is why you should not go after him. Remember, you are still wanted by the Spanish, you won’t want to fall into their hands. Be patient. I know you’re not good at that, but try. If he’s been captured, there’s nothing you can do anyway.”

“Billy, your optimism is overwhelming,” she said sarcastically, “but all right, I’ll wait a little while longer. It’s plain as day you won’t help me. I can’t ask around here for fear Charles will find out. I have to be very circumspect if I expect to get this done.” She stood up, and embraced him. “I’m glad you’re not dead. Don’t worry, no one will hear it from me.”

He watched her walk away, “Be smart, Cathy, please,” he prayed, and ordered another glass of rum.

 

Cathy went outside and called for her horse, only to see Ned Low sitting on his own mount and holding onto her mare’s reins. 

“I thought I should ride with you, dangerous characters are often found on this road at night.”

“You might say I’m a bit dangerous, myself,” she replied and opened her cloak to show a brace of pistols, “I can ride and shoot at the same time, besides, I’ve never been threatened riding home. I just don’t like how dark the road can be when there is no moonlight.” She pointed at the sky, “Look tonight the moon is full, it will be a lovely ride home—alone.”

“You won’t shake me so easily, I’m riding with you.” He cupped his hands to help her into the saddle. She looked at him, debating, then put her boot on his hands and allowed him to give her a leg up.

She didn’t wait for him, she took off, giving her Arabian mare a vicious kick in the sides. He laughed and swung up into the saddle. His horse could not match her Arab for speed, but she’d slow down and he’d catch her up.

She ignored him through the whole ride, slowing only to let her mare cool down. He didn’t try to coax her, only staying at her side, determined that she would not lose him. When they reached town, they woke the stable boy and gave him their horses.

She started up the hill to her rooms, then turned and demanded of him, “Why are you following me?”

“Because I am coming with you, we have business, you and I, do we not?”

She shook her head, but said nothing. She unlocked her door, then felt him take the key from her, motioning her in. He followed, locked the door behind him, then stood, looking at her, waiting.

She threw her cloak on a chair, then grabbing a bottle, poured two glasses of rum, handing one to him. Hers she drank down quickly, then poured another, but he took it from her and set it on the table. Was it just now that he’d noticed she wore trousers and a shirt instead of a dress? They emphasized her long, slim legs and her tiny waist.

He set his glass next to hers, then began to unbutton her shirt, caressing her breasts gently as he did. He took one in his hand and put his mouth to it, hearing her sharp intake of breath. She moaned softly as his mouth became more insistent, then switched to the next breast.

His mouth took hers, at first soft, then hard and possessive. He slid off her trousers, caressing her legs, then running his fingers between the now-wet opening between.

“No,” she murmured as he lifted her and carried her into the bedroom, not knowing if “No” was truly what she meant. It was too late anyway by the time he’d deposited her on the bed and removed his clothes. 

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, “Charles is either with his favorite whore or with Eleanor.” His insistent hands were moving over her, moving her closer to him. By the time he spread her legs apart and plunged into her it was too late for anything else anyway.

“Don’t worry,” he repeated, “If he finds out and beats you for this, I’ll take you away, anywhere you want to go. We’ll be partners, you and I, we’ll drive Eleanor and Charles out of business. I’ll make you the richest woman in the Spanish Main.”

“Just shut up and fuck me, Low,” she growled.

“Gladly, madam,” he replied.

When dawn broke she wondered where she was. Where Charles should have been lay the smaller framed Ned Low. She felt sore and tired, but oddly satisfied.

“What have I done?” she asked herself.

He opened his eyes, looking at her and smiling. As he reached for her, she pulled away. “No,” she said, “Not yet, not now.”

“Why not?” his arm reached out and captured her waist, “You’re too good to play second to anyone, and yet he has his whore and his Eleanor. Why should Cathy settle for less when she’s worthy of more?”

“And I’m worthy of more than you. Ned, I’m tired of Nassau, tired of pirates. I want to go back to Paris, or Italy and find a small house where I can be Mademoiselle Catherine who attends dinners and parties and wears the finest Paris gowns. Maybe I’ll go to Tuscany, and see the Etruscan tombs and buy a little farm and get to know my neighbors. I’m tired of fearing that people I love will be arrested, or hung, or get lost at sea.”

“But you’ll only come back, you’ll be happy with that life for a while, then one morning you’ll wake up and miss the sound of the waves on the beach, the scent of flowers in the air. I’m afraid Nassau is in your blood now, and you’ll realize one day you aren’t happy with your Tuscan olive grove.”

“I don’t know, Ned, maybe you’re right. Right now, all I want to do is find my brother, or at least know he’s all right.”

“Tell you what, stop talking, and I’ll see what I can do. You should have come to me first.” He started kissing her, moving from her mouth to her smooth, flat belly.

She felt herself starting to melt, then stopped him. “As long as this is not about love, Ned. Promise me you don’t want me to love you, then it’s all right, have all of me that you want.”


	18. Requiem for a Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned Low has told Cathy a secret, now what should she do with it? Tell her brother, who to her great joy, has shown up in Nassau? Or keep it to her self until she finds the right time and person? Something is afoot, though, Eleanor will not do business with Flint, so his gold sits buried in the sands. Vane is meeting with Max, then with Bonny and Rackham, and Cathy wonders what he is up to. Has Max been given access to the same secret as her? And what will come of their knowing it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm watching recaps of Black Sails on You Tube since I no longer have Starz. I'm trying to catch the story up, and am glad to see Flint is back--yaay! I am liking Charles Vane less, and that perhaps is why he and Cathy are estranged. Eleanor can have him, but she better watch out. Now with the recent turn of events the story is developing some new and interesting twists.

Before he left her that morning, Low whispered a secret in her ear. She watched him leave, listening to his boots as they went down the steps, then lay back on her bed, thinking.  
She had just started to fall asleep again, when she heard banging at her door. “Coming, coming,” she said, pulling on a cotton kimono.

“Hurry up, or I’ll break down this damn door,” a male voice called out, and when she heard it, she ran and opened the door.

“Flint!” She jumped up and put her arms around him, kissing him, “Oh, where have you been, I’ve been so worried.” She hugged him tightly, he put his arms around her, picked her up and spun her around until she begged him to put her down.

“Oh, brother, you’re home, you’re home. I’ve missed you. I’ve been so afraid for you, I was ready to find someone with a ship and pay them to help me look for you.”  
“Well, Cathy, you should have had more faith. Yes, here I am, and none the richer for it, I’m afraid. I left a fortune in Spanish gold buried in the sand, but can’t bring it back. Eleanor, I’m afraid, has turned traitor.” He sat down, picked up the rum bottle and drank, not bothering with a glass. “So, have you and Vane had a falling out? Has he turned to her for comfort?”

She took the bottle from him, looked at her empty glass, then filled it. “Too early in the morning for this, really. Did I fall out with Vane? I suppose so. He’s had Idella from the brothel, and soon Eleanor followed--again. For a while I didn’t care, now I’m sick of it and him. I rather fancy not belonging to anyone these days. I turned Vane away from my bed about a month ago, and haven’t looked back.”

“Ah, that explains it. Eleanor seems to view Vane as her savior. He turned Hornigold out of the fort and killed his men, now he’s taken it over, it seems. That girl’s a fool, I wouldn’t have thought it of her. What else do you know?”

She took a chair at the table and beckoned him to join her. “There’s been another captain in Nassau who is every bit as bad as Charles Vane. Ned Low—ever hear of him? I had a run in with him when I was in the Azores on my way to Europe. I came out of it unscathed, he was afraid I’d blow his head off, I think; plus I was on a ship full of Genoese—who are nasty customers in their own right.”

“Ah, he came to Nassau, did he? He mostly plied his trade off the Carolinas—good pickings—and the Atlantic. So Ned Low came to Nassau, and what happened? Did you fuck him?” He ducked as she threw her rum at him.

“Yes, twice, as a matter of fact. I’m afraid he’s enamoured of me, but I don’t reciprocate, thank you. I’m staying away from men like him and Charles from now on. I want to have a clean conscience when it comes to the men I fuck.”

“Does that include your brother?” he gave her the evil grin that always made her laugh.

“I don’t fuck you. But he’s been giving Eleanor a hard time. I wonder if Vane will play Sir Galahad—though that hardly how I’d describe him--for her and do something about it. I don’t who would win in a fight with those two, they both fight dirty. I’ve been staying out of things, I’d focused my energies on trying to find you. If I were curious I could always ask Max, she seems to be in the middle of things these days. I go to the brothel to bathe and wash my hair, then I leave. I’ve missed out on a lot of gossip, but, there is one thing that Low told me, that I don’t think Charles or Eleanor know yet.”

“And what might that be?”

“Low kidnapped Abigail Ashe, daughter of Lord Ashe.” She puckered her forehead, thinking, “I would not have risked it, it’s way too dangerous. If he tries to ransom her he runs a great risk. What makes him think Lord Ashe would pay him? If I were Lord Ashe I would send every man I have down here and hunt down Low and anyone who is helping him. One way or another, there will be hell to pay for it. I’d rather attack the Spanish Armada.”

“Eleanor becomes more power hungry by the day, she’s going to be her own worst enemy if she is not careful. I think she turned to Charles for help with Low because she couldn’t deal with him on her own. She better be careful, Charles is going to swing someday, and if she isn’t careful, she’ll be there on the gallows with him. All Charles wants to do is drink and fuck, he does little to pull his weight. A life of profit without work: the pirate’s dream and curse. I liked Charles better when he actually wanted captain a ship.”

“So what should we do with this information you gave me? How do I put it to use.” Flint refilled his glass and tossed it down.

“For now, I’d wait, if I were you,” Cathy reached over and took the bottle from him, “Something is going on. I think Charles is up to something more than trying to win over the fair Eleanor. I don’t think I’ve seen the last of Charles, but he’s spent the last night he’s going to spend in my bed Are you going to see Miranda? Please don’t leave me guessing. I can keep you abreast of things here, as long as I know where to find you. There’s no love lost between the two of us, but at least we don’t fight—it’s more like polite tolerance.”

“I had thought of it. I have to go now, but I’ll be in touch. Be my eyes and ears, Cathy, and let me know even the smallest thing that passes between Eleanor and Charles. Oh, one more thing, the Spanish ship in the harbor is mine. I’ll send Silver to you, if you need anything let him know. I’ll be in town a day or two—then perhaps at the plantation or back on ship. Be careful.” He gathered her into his arms and held her tightly, “Be careful,” he repeated, “Don’t trust Eleanor or Charles. If Eleanor decides to be jealous, come to the plantation, or come on board ship.” He kissed the top of her head and went out the door.

She sat for a long time, thinking, then went down to the bordello and had a bath and washed her hair. Max seemed busy, preoccupied, she’d changed, not at all like the young whore Cathy had met when she first came to Nassau. Now Max carried secrets like currency, available to the highest bidder. But now she had a secret, too.

Vane passed her as she was leaving, her long hair hanging wet around her thighs. He seemed almost startled, as if he hadn’t seen her countless times before. She could see the desire and regret in his eyes; he may be fucking Eleanor but he still wanted her. But that was a different Cathy, all this Cathy felt was for him indifference. He had sacrificed her to his greed for power and Eleanor. Eleanor could have him.

She went to a little café she often frequented with Vane. She sat outside and ate while the sun dried her hair. Her mind raced as she pondered ways to make use of the information Low had given her. Perhaps she should tell Richard Guthrie, if he still had contacts within His Majesty’s government maybe they could rescue the girl. Not yet, a voice inside her said, wait and see what happens. And if Vane…if Vane what? How would he get hold of the girl? Ned Low was putting out to sea, and Vane did not have a ship. But that might not matter, the voice said, just wait.

Silver came to her while she was drinking her coffee. Why was her brother trusting this man? There was no sincerity in John Silver, only a strong instinct for survival. She could respect that, she knew about surviving, too. And in his own way the man was damnably handsome.

“Cathy Flint, it certainly has been a while,” He signaled the waitress for a cup of coffee. “Flint wants to know if there was anything that you need.”

“He could have asked me that a while ago when he was in my room. He told me that I was to let you know if I needed anything—I do appreciate that. My brother looks out for me, Silver, you should know that.”

“I certainly do. And I know that in the past things between us have been strained, but I am under threat of death if anything happens to you. I don’t blame you if you don’t trust me, just know that if there is any way I can help you, I will.” He smiled, showing white, even teeth, which seemed especially white in his deeply tanned face.

“I can think of something. Are you on good terms with any of the girls in the brothel, or have your problems with Max ended that?” She set her cup down, studying his face.  
“I don’t have any particular problems with Max at the moment, why?”

“What would you say to being my eyes and ears in the brothel? I saw Vane go in there, and I don’t think it was for a fuck. Something is up, I can feel it. Max usually sits and gossips with me while I take a bath. Today, she was nowhere to be seen. I think Max had a talk with Vane, and I want to know what they talked about.”

Silver leaned back in his chair. “Well, that may be easier said than done, but I’ll see what I can do. You’re up to something, I can see it in your face. You’re a lot like your brother.”  
“Yes, and we don’t tolerate fools. I hope you don’t prove to be one if I have to put my trust in you.” She threw some coins on the table. “I’ll be at the market talking to Ruby Marie, you can find me there. Don’t disappoint me, Silver.” 

She watched him walk up the stairs to the brothel and disappear inside. Don’t disappoint me, you bastard, she thought, then went to find Ruby Marie.

Ruby was holding forth with her cronies, including two women Cathy had not seen before. A half empty bottle full of rum sat on the table before them, making her suspect that the old Obeah woman was at least half drunk.

“Cathy, Cathy, some ye here,” Ruby waved her over to the table, “I want ye to meet me old friends, Marie Saloppe and Marie Philome. They just escaped from Santa Domingo and got a ship here. This be my good friend, Cathy, ladies, ain't she a beauty?.”

Marie Philome took a handful of her hair, “Red hair.” She shook her head disapprovingly, “I mix you up a potion that will change that. Judas had red hair, so does Satan. Bring ye bad luck it will.”

Cathy brushed it off, it was not the first time she had heard disparaging remarks about the color of her hair. “At least it makes me stand out from all those insipid blonds.” Did I really say that, she thought, but the Obeah women laughed.

Marie Saloppe reached out her hand, “Let me see ye palm.” Cathy handed it to her, and the old woman studied it silently before saying, “Ye/be a brave girl, aren’t ye, not afraid to take chances. Ye won’t ever settle for the ordinary, nor should ye. Ye know the path ye should follow, and as long as ye have the courage to follow it, ye shall find what ye seek.” Cathy reached in her pocket to give her some coins, but she waved her off.

“No, that be my gift. That red hair suits ye, when ye find the right man to take ye on, there be nothing but good ahead for ye. Now go, someone looks for ya.”

Cathy stood up and kissed her, then looked up to see Silver gesturing to her. She ran out of the market, eager to find out what news he had for her.

“Well?” she demanded.

“Well, I couldn’t’ find out much, even scattering coins around, but Max and Vane had a talk this morning. About what, I don’t know, but one of the whores told me that Anne Bonny and Max have been very tight as of late. I suspect little Max is holding secrets in her pocket that not even you could wheedle out of her. I think, and this is just a guess, Max is trying to curry favor for Anne and Jack with Vane—just a guess. And I heard that…”

“What I’ve suspected, Anne Bonney has been in Max’s bed, more than once. This wasn’t so hard to find out. I though Vane had washed his hands of Bonny and Rackham for good, I guess I was wrong. He’s up to something, damn him. Will you help me watch the brothel? I think Max knows something I thought only I was privy to. I just have to get it out of her, if I can. I’m going to have to take advantage of my friendship with her, and I hate to do it, but I must.”

“Cathy,” he said, but she cut him off.

“I know, I know. If I were a man I’d be on my brother’s ship. I don’t have the temperament of an Anne Bonny or a Mary Read, and I don’t want to. Living by my wits is one thing, being a cut throat pirate is another altogether.”

Silver gave her an admiring smile. “You’d make a very good pirate, but I think I’m rather glad you’re not.” 

She gave him a dirty look, but he only laughed. "Watch the brothel," she said, and left before she gave in to an urge to slap him.


	19. Sing Me No Lovesongs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flint has placed Cathy in the care of Silver and together they are trying to find out what is going on. Something suspicious, surely, Rackham and Bonny are now back in Vane's good graces. Max is being mysterious, Eleanor is being headstrong. Nothing is for sure and now Cathy has a strange night time visitor

Cathy watched Silver disappear into the brothel. The man had a talent for being inconspicuous when he needed to be, she granted him that. She hoped he was also good at hearing things he wasn’t supposed to.

The quiet of her rooms beckoned her. She climbed the stairs, listening to the breeze rustle the palms, wishing she could escape to her waterfall and let the world disappear around her. That was a luxury she could not afford at the moment. Would she ever be able to live that quiet life she so wanted, or was it truly as Ned Low had said, if she did attain it, she would tire of it?

She opened the doors and the windows, letting the air blow through. The hottest part of the day was approaching, people would seek the indoors, coming out again in the evening when it cooled, and a breeze came in off the harbor. Her rooms were cool but she hated being constrained by four walls. Charles would grow impatient with her when she would leave him in the afternoons, but she had no inclination to remain in the dungeon that he called his room.

She looked towards the fort, wondering what he was up to. There were no regrets for her in leaving him, she should have done it a long time ago. How had he held that much influence over her, anyway? She’d run away from strict parents, only to find herself under the thumb of Flint, who had become her in loco parentis. Charles had seemed like freedom at first, it had taken her a long time to realize he had wanted to keep her completely under his thumb. She had escaped him, once; now, at least, she had somehow managed it again.

“Never again,” she thought, “Never again. I blinded myself to the truth, but my eyes are open now. Poor Eleanor, so blinded by love? Loyalty? Gratitude? How long is it going to take for you to open your eyes.”

A knock at the door drove her out of her reverie. 

“I think you better come and see this,” said Silver, and she followed him to the bordello, wondering what had happened.

Vane, Rackham, and Anne Bonny were walking together like old friends. “Son of a bitch,” she whispered, “What’s happened here?”

“Well,” said Silver, “All is apparently forgiven. How that came about I do not know. I suppose the element of mystery would be our friend Max. I haven’t had a chance to talk to her yet, but…”

“Silver, this is something I better take care of. Max is always plotting, but this is something even I could not have predicted. Tell my brother, this is not good news. Rackham is a captain without a ship, and I’m dying to know whose ship he plans on taking to remedy it.”

“By the itching of my thumb, something wicked this way comes.” She put her hands on either side of her head, and squeezed her eyes shut. Thoughts were swirling madly inside her head, and she couldn’t make them stop. “Talk to Max”. No, Max might not want to talk. “Make her talk anyway.” How? 

“Talk to Vane.” No, I don’t want to end up in his bed, and somehow that is what would happen. He’ll use sex to show me he can still control me—even though he can’t. And I don’t want him to find out what Low told me. But he’s up to something, I know, I always know. I can read him better than Eleanor, even when my love for him was blinding me, I could always read the truth in his eyes. He wants what my brother wants, he wants to rule the island, the trouble is he can’t. Flint’s wiser, Flint can see what’s coming, Charles only wants the easy way out.

“I’m going to talk to Max,” she said out loud, “I think she traded a secret for the reconciliation with Rackham and Bonny. That’s got to be it. I’m going to the brothel to talk to her. Go find my brother and let him know.”

“Oh no, I’m your watchdog upon pain of death. I’m not to let you out of my sight,” Silver grinned, that ingratiating smile of his could either humor or irritate.  
“All right, all right. Have it your way. I’m forever winding up with nursemaids I don’t want...oh my, I think I know.”

“Know what?” he demanded.

“There’s a pirate in the fort, used to be one of Blackbeard’s men, Vane designated him my body guard, and no one could ever have done it better. He’s a good sort, for a blackguard, he took a shine to me and more than once he let me do something I shouldn’t. If there’s any sort of gossip going around regarding Charles’ plans, he might be willing to tell me for old time’s sake. I’d just have to make sure that Charles is nowhere around, there would be hell to pay if he were.”

“Oh no, you are not going to the fort, because I am not willing to let you risk both our necks. Vane would kill me in a heartbeat, and I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you, that he’s be willing to just let you walk out.”

She shrugged her shoulders, “Fine, then, let’s talk to Max, that’s the next best thing. I’d still love to get into the fort to see what’s going on. There’s no secrets among pirates, everyone always knows what’s going on. Unless it’s my brother,” she corrected herself. “Let’s go see Max.”

Silver admired Cathy’s gently swaying, yet purposeful walk. He was beginning to see just how similar brother and sister were. They were intelligent, and knew it. Ambitious, always scheming, seeing around the next corner. Both possessed a daring streak that made them successful, if a bit reckless. He’d heard about Cathy’s theft of the Cuban viceroy’s treasure, and the daring escape she’d made to Italy. When he first met her, he saw only her looks and would not have thought her capable, now nothing she did could surprise him.

Compared to the humid air outside, the brothel felt refreshingly cool. Max was everywhere, clearly in charge. Her lips curled into a smile when she saw Cathy, as if she were not suspicious as to why she’d come. 

The smile turned to a sneer when she saw Silver. “What is he doing here?” she asked.

“Calm down, Max, Flint has set him up as my watchdog. It seems nobody trusts me on my own, which we both know is ridiculous. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself, but I need him to be with us when we talk—please?” 

Max assented, a stony nod towards Silver. She didn’t like it, but she’d tolerate him for Cathy. “So,” she said, “What did you wish to talk about?”

“Oh,” said Cathy slowly, “I think that Ned Low shared a piece of information with you that he also shared with me. And I think you have told Charles, and Charles is up to something, like perhaps providing Rackham with a ship.”

“So?” Max was a cool customer, Cathy admired that. Vane may have shared his intentions, or not, but Cathy knew, beyond all doubt, that Max had told Vane about Abigail Ashe. And now, short of chaining him in the dungeons of the fort, there was nothing that she could do about it. She had one card she could play, counting on Max’s greed, but the card was weak at best if Vane had already bribed her.

“I know of a treasure chest, full of costly baubles. You could pick one, and keep it or sell it; but it would bring you enough to leave the brothel and support yourself for quite a while.” 

“I am doing quite well for myself here, why should I want to leave?” Max snorted her derision.

“Pardon moi, Maxine, I had forgotten who I was talking to. But you’ve answered my question, or enough of it. You may know what Charles is doing, or not, but for myself, I think I do. Ned Low, I am afraid is a dead man, if he doesn’t succeed in killing Charles first. Vane, you are over reaching yourself, but you won’t listen to reason, any more than Eleanor will. God, I’ll be glad to leave this damned island. I think I’ve had my fill of Nassau and the kingdom of the pirates.

She took her leave of Max, and surprised Silver by taking his hand and leading him out of the brothel. “We’ve got to find my brother, he needs to know what Charles is be up to. Max isn’t talking, but I think she knows. Why go to all this trouble for Rackham and Bonny? They’ve certainly not done much for her. If I could, I’d slit Charles' throat, but I can’t.” She stopped talking, took a deep breath. “I need a drink, but I don’t want to drink here. I’m going to take you somewhere, Silver, to a little inn that’s away from Nassau. If I can’t do something constructive, I might as well get drunk.”

“Oh, no, you’re not going anywhere. Until Flint releases me, I am keeping an eye on you. Besides, we could go drink at the inn and see what Eleanor is up to. I always considered myself devilishly devious, but I am beginning to feel like I am a child compared to you people. I’m sure Flint will be showing up eventually, and maybe he’ll release you from my charge for the day. You’re not the only one who’d like to leave Nassau; but unlike you, until your brother can retrieve the Urca’s gold, I’m stuck here.”

 

Nightfall. The sudden change in the tropics from sunset to dark. Now that she was on her own, Cathy played with the idea of going to the Pearl. She knew the road well, and could ride with a lantern to help ease the way. The idea of being alone on the road was irresistible. 

Talking to Eleanor had been fruitless, a waste of time. Eleanor was dreaming of power. She envisioned herself ruling the island with Charles by her side . Richard Guthrie had returned to help her, and her earnings were increasing with his steady knowledge to guide her. Too bad he can’t contain your foolishness, Cathy thought, your father must know this dream we call Nassau is going to end soon.

She heard the door squeak on its hinges, had she forgotten to lock it? There were plenty of candles burning, and she picked up a little dagger she kept beside her bed and thrust it in her waistband.

Footsteps now, heading to her bedroom. She pondered an escape to her veranda, decided against it. Let whoever it was coming for her do what they will. She could take care of herself.

“Cathy,” she recognized the voice before she even saw him. She didn’t even turn around as she answered,

“What do you want, Vane?”

“I have something to show you.”

She turned and looked. Vane was holding the severed head of Ned Low, waiting for her reaction. She put her hand over, stifling a small cry. If he had expected to shock her, he had, but not in the way he hoped. She’d expected this, must have known somehow it was coming. Charles Vane had to play one more game before they were through, one more try to hurt her.

“What do you think of your lover, now?” he must have expected he would sound menacing, but he had forgotten how well she knew his ways.

“Which lover, Charles?” baiting him deliberately, “The one I fucked once or twice, or my former lover who can’t stand to leave me alone? Put it away, give it to Eleanor as a gift because I don’t care one way or another. It could just as easily been him standing before me, holding your head, you know. The two of you are interchangeable, I think, it’s just a matter of which madman you prefer.”

He took a step towards her, then another; she put her hand on the hilt of her little knife. His hand reached out and encircled her throat, tightening, then he dropped the head and drew her roughly to him. 

“One more night, Mistress Flint, one more night you owe to me, then I’m out of your life forever, if that’s truly what you want.” His lips came down hard on hers, and soon there was no more to say.


	20. Girlhood Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles pays one last visit to Cathy and they make love, agreeing that this should be it. Just before sunrise Flint shows up at Cathy's door, demanding that she pack some things and go to Miranda's. Things will be happening and big brother that he is, he wants to make sure she's safe. He makes the mistake of having Silver escort her to Cathy's, where she ends up, in fact, is at the Pearl where Billy Bones is staying.
> 
> Charles and Hornigold bombard the fort, but Charles does not return their fire. What does happen is Flint comes to shore, and Cathy, who had ridden to Nassau to see what has happened, watches as her former lover attacks her brother. If Vane kills him, she promises herself, she will grab a knife and kill him to, for killing Flint would be a cardinal sin,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to catch the story up a bit with what's going on in the series (I have to watch recaps to find this out). I am staying out of the Tom/Miranda/Flint thing, it's not my story. Likewise I am not mentioning the triangle going on with Jack/Max/Anne Bonny because so far they have no part to play as yet. Billy Bones, however, should be coming back soon.

“You need to leave.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to, and besides, won’t Eleanor be expecting you? And I want you to get your trophy out of my room; I have an aversion to disembodied heads.”

Cathy leaned over Vane and lit a candle, casting eerie shadows about the room. Her red hair shone black in the candlelight, making her seem dark and mysterious.

He put his hands on her waist, moved them up to her breasts. His mouth found her nipple and his tongue began to play with it. He pushed her onto her back, his hand sliding down her belly, when there came a pounding at her door.

“Fuck,” she muttered, and pushed him away. Wrapping the sheet around her, she went to the door, asking, ”Who is it?”

“It’s Eleanor, have you seen Charles?”

Vane shook his head and Cathy smiled. “You can’t expect me to keep track of him for you, Ellie.” She looked over to see Vane hurriedly pulling on his clothes. “I doubt he’ll come here, he’s not exactly welcome these days. I’m going back to bed now.”

She waited for the tapping of Eleanor’s heels to fade away, then went back to the bed. “Don’t come back here, Vane, we’re through, we’re done. I won’t lie to her again.”

“You’re a mistress as cruel as the sea, that’s what you are.” He ran his hand down her arm, squeezed her breast. “When you returned from Europe, the girl I knew was gone, now there’s a woman who knows her own mind that I’m no match for, and I know it. I’m going to miss you, Cathy.”

He finished dressing and kissed her one last time, deeply, longingly. “There, that will have to last me, unless I can change your mind.”

“You can’t,” he could see her smiling at him in the candlelight. He gave her one long, last, look, and left her room.

She had just fallen asleep, a blissful, dreamless sleep, when the pounding at her door returned. “Shit,” she swore, and then said out loud, “Leave me the fuck alone, would you Charles?” Still the pounding continued.

“All right,” she muttered and wrapped a sheet tightly around her. “What?” she said, and pulled the door open, only to find Silver and her brother standing there, Silver smiling appreciatively.

“What are you doing, Cathy?” Flint pushed his way into the room, “Have you been…?”

“Whatever I’ve been, it’s none of your business. What are you doing waking me up in the middle of the night?”

“It’s not the middle of the night, it’s almost dawn. I need you to pack up some clothes, and go stay with Miranda until I come and fetch you.”

“And why should I want to stay with your whore? You know we can’t stand each other, and I can’t bear the thought of having to be in her house.”

“Technically, it’s my house.” Flint found her portmanteau, and handed it to her. “I’ve got your horse ready, along with a pack animal for your baggage. I imagine you still keep a chest here and I’m sure you won’t want to leave it.”

“You still haven’t told me what you’re up to, big brother. I’m disinclined to do anything without an explanation.” Cathy sat on the bed, pulling the sheet more tightly around her. Silver was staring too hard at her, she was surprised Flint was tolerating it, or had he even noticed?

“Hornigold and I are going to bombard the fort, and drive Vane out. Good enough for you? I can’t have you here where something might happen. I have to know that you’re safe.”  
“Well, did you stop to consider that that may not be a good idea? Vane is holding Abigail Ashe in the fort—do you want to risk killing her?”

“What?” Flint had clearly not expected this. “How do you know? Did he tell you?”

“He didn’t have to. He came to see me after dark, bearing Ned Low’s head. I’m assuming that Low’s crew is dead, and he’s taken Lord Ashe’s daughter hostage. If you insist on blowing up the damn fort, you may well end up blowing up her.” Cathy paused, “Also, that fort is pretty damn necessary to you scalawags. You’re going to need it if the British or the Spanish invade. A fort can’t be rebuilt overnight, you know, and even if the Scarborough is gone, that doesn’t mean another ship won’t come to take her place.”

“We know what we’re doing, Cathy…”

“No you think you know. I like Captain Hornigold, and on occasion I like you, but you are even crazier than I am. Now, that said, you need to get out of here so I can pack and dress. I know how to do both in a hurry, so wait outside.”

Flint had the good sense to leave, Silver following with one last look. She threw on skirt, petticoat and bodice, and tied a shawl over her shoulders to fend off the morning chill. She pulled clothes from the chest, enough to last for a week, along with necessities she did not wish to do without. Lastly, she pulled the chest full of gold and silver coins from beneath her bed that she kept for “expenses.” There was more than sufficient coinage for her to get away in a hurry if the necessity arose.

She opened the door, announcing she was ready, handing Flint her portmanteau, and instructing Silver to take the chest. He struggled a little under the weight and she thought, “Good, now see if you want to leer at me again.”

Horses were waiting at the foot of the stair, along with a mount for whoever would be escorting her, she supposed. The portmanteau and chest were strapped to the pack horse, and she mounted her Arab mare, none too pleased at the lack of care that had been given to her grooming.

“Silver will see you to Miranda’s, I don’t want you riding alone.”

“What’s the matter brother, afraid I won’t show up?”

Flint only smiled. “Make sure she gets there before sunrise,” he told Silver, “then come back as quickly as you can. There’ll be a boat waiting, if not, you can find a skiff.” He started to walk down to the harbor, not looking back.

Cathy watched him leave with just a little admiration. That’s what we Flints do, she thought, we take care of business and then on to the next task. We don’t bother looking back, we never look back.

She turned to Silver, “I’m not going to Miranda’s, I’m going down the road to stay at the Pearl until this blows over. I’m not going to stay with his whore, I hate the whole planter community she tries so hard to be a part of. If I wanted to be respectable, I’d have married at seventeen and fulfilled my parents’ ambitions. You can come with me, or not, as you like.” She turned her horse’s head and began to ride off.

“Your brother will kill me,” Silver muttered, “I better not let you out of my sight, for now. I’d just as soon not be here when the firing starts, anyway.”

Cathy was the superior rider. He could not quite keep up, but neither was he too far behind. When he reached the Pearl, she was already off her horse, giving instructions to a servant to take care of the horses. the chest and portmanteau at her feet.

“Not so fond of riding Silver?” she asked cheerfully, “Don’t worry, it’s not such a long ride back to Nassau. Pick up my chest, will you please?”

He did as he was told, lifting the heavy chest carefully. How much money was in here, anyway? He’d never been able to confirm exactly how much she was in possession of, but this little chest was supposed to only be a small portion. Well, if Flints could attract gold, who’s to say that retrieving the treasure buried in the Florida sands would be an impossibility, he thought.

She was talking now to the innkeeper, handing him over some coins that brought a smile to his chubby round face.” When she had concluded her business, she turned again to him.

“Listen Silver,” she said “You tell Flint I led you astray on the road and no matter how much you tried, you could not find me. You better get back, now, it’s not a long ways to Nassau. You don’t know where I am, when you realized you lost me, you turned around and came back. You better get back to the ship, and have a care not to get that pretty head blown off.” She slid a handful of coins into his hand, and when he looked down, he saw the bright gleam of gold.

“My,” he said, his eyes agog. He could not think of something to say, most unusual for him, then turned his horse around and headed back to Nassau.

She chose a pretty room facing the harbor. Though it did not have a veranda, if she leaned out she could see Flint’s ship from one direction, the fort from another. She looked from one to the other, trying to decide. She was sure Vane knew what her brother was intending, when he began to fire on the fort it would surely put him Abigail Ashe in danger. 

She racked her brains, trying to think of a solution. She knew the fort well, as well as any of the men in there. Reason and logic made her realize that even if she could get in and free Mistress Ashe, she may not be able to get her out. 

Damn them, damn all of them. Damn all stubborn, greedy, pig headed pirates. How could she attempt to do the right thing when the opportunity clearly would not present itself? Here she was, helpless to do anything but watch this drama play out. 

She was so caught up in her reverie, that the first loud report of a cannon caught her so off guard that she screamed. A moment’s pause, and the second gun fired. It had begun.  
She ran down to the beach to get a better view. Charles, to her amazement, was not firing back. That didn’t make sense, for the cannons at the fort could blow a ship out of the water, she’d seen it. She’d never seen the guns of a man o’ war in action, and these were more powerful than she’d imagined them. Flint’s gunner Israel Hand was deadly accurate, and he seemed to be taking deliberate aim at different parts of the wall.

Both ship and fort were shrouded in smoke, and she couldn’t tell what was going on, until she heard the loud boom as yet another cannon was fired. Idiots, idiots, she thought, this will solve nothing. Hornigold, you want vengeance for what was taken away from you, and my brother? You, Flint, you just want it all. Maybe I should have stayed with Vane, bargained with him for your access in and out of the harbor—if it would have helped. This pissing contest is going to do no one no good, especially Abigail Ashe.

Then there was quiet, no more sounds of cannon. She wanted to get back to Nassau and check out the damage for herself, but what kind of reception would she receive? Her relationship with Charles had always been separate from Flint. There were things for which she could not forgive him, but at the same time there was no animosity. She did not begrudge him Eleanor for she no longer loved him. He has misjudged her, badly, by showing her Low’s head, not realizing she simply did not care. The only sin which would never be forgiven would be the sin of killing her brother, and he knew it.

She walked further down the beach, trying to see what had happened to the fort. The smoke and dust had cleared, but still she was too far away to see if anything had happened to the fort.

“Damn,” she swore, “This is doing me no good.” She went back to the inn and called for her horse. The road or the beach? She thought, then chose the beach. Her horse was not tired from the morning’s ride, and she kept her at a gallop, laughing at the men who scattered as she navigated between the tents that cluttered parts of the beach.  
She pulled her horse up, taking a moment to see what activity was happening on ship. A jolly boat was being rowed out, and she could see Flint’s russet hair as he sat in the prow. Was this going to be good or bad? 

By the time she reached the fort she had her answer. Vane was going after her brother, knife in hand. She felt for her dagger, but nothing was in her waistband, in her haste she had forgotten the little dirk she always carried. She could charge him with her horse, but she might injure her brother in the process. All she could do was watch in horror as the two men fought, hoping that somehow it would come to a draw. If Charles killed Flint, she would steal a knife and kill him right there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who have not read "Treasure Island", Israel Hand(s) was Flint's gunner. Since they were firing cannon at the fort, I thought it logical that he should be mentioned!!


	21. A Rifle's Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleanor saves Vane and Flint from killing each other. Cathy demands answers from Billy Bones

Cathy wanted to jump on Vane, put him in a choke hold, anything to help her brother, but two strong arms grabbed her, pulling her back.

“That would be foolish of you,” she heard Silver’s voice in her ear, “The blood lust is on both of them. Vane could easily kill you, though he would, no doubt, regret it, and your brother would not appreciate your putting yourself in danger, or your interference. If you haven’t the stomach to watch, you should leave.”

She was about to answer him, tell him that she was perfectly capable of dealing with Vane, when the matter was settled for her. The blast of a rifle, scattering sand, and surprising the two combatants, sounded, and the fight was over as quickly as it had begun. 

The noise startled her mare, who took off at a run. It did not matter, she would run only a short distance, then hopefully come to a halt. She tried to free herself from Silver’s arms, but he was not so quick to let her go.

“I think they’re going off to talk, do I have your word that you will stay out of it?” He didn’t wait for her answer, but released her.

“I have to find my horse,” she muttered, then disappeared into the crowd on the beach. She had a sudden desire to talk to Billy Bones, not that she was sure that he knew what was going on, but something suddenly did not seem right. How much had she missed after the Walrus and the Ranger had sailed? Billy had looked like he had suffered some injuries, and she found herself curious as to how he’d gotten them. And how had Ned Low known Billy was in Nassau? It was most inconvenient of Charles, she decided, to kill Ned Low when he could possibly provide her some answers.

And she must find Richard Guthrie. Guthrie had his finger on the pulse of Nassau, a thing Eleanor never seemed to master. Eleanor’s domain was the immediate, she could see ahead, but only as far as it affected her plans. 

She heard the angry noises of a horse in distress, and saw men trying to grab her horse’s reins. She whistled and the mare reared up, striking out with flinty hooves. So she had not gone as far as she thought she might. 

She approached the men gathered around her horse, pushing them out of the way. She began to speak to the horse in Spanish, the language she’d been trained in, and got close enough to grab the reins. She turned to the men who’d been trying to steal her. “You wouldn’t have been able to ride her, you fools, or take her. I’m the only one she obeys.” Knowing she was taking a risk, she got into the saddle, then turned her Arab’s head around. Kicking her mare hard in the sides, the horse responded and took off at a gallop. “Good girl,” she said, and patted her on the neck.

Billy. She was going to start with Billy. This was how it had begun for her. Why had she been so stupid and not questioned how he could be on land, and not on the Walrus or the Ranger with her brother? All the drama with Vane and Low had affected her ability to think, and thinking usually had gotten her out of any trouble she’d ever found herself in. She must pin Billy down, by his balls if need be, she told herself grimly, and make him answer her questions—all of them.

She headed back to the inn, praying that Billy was there. If not, she would have to find him. She said a silent prayer of gratitude for Ned Low: he had found Billy for her, and he had been her first step towards her freedom from Charles. Now, let Charles be happy with Eleanor, please, she thought. The years with him had been tumultuous and full of strife, but in between there had been wild and passionate love. She wondered idly if Eleanor had a nature that was even close to hers, for in a perverse way, she and Charles had suited each other very well.

When she got to the inn she said a quick “Ave Maria” after she gave the groom her horse. Be here Billy, please be here.

Her luck was holding out, for the moment, Billy stood close to the bar, talking with Dufresne. The odd little man looked strangely excited as he nodded at Billy, and turned to leave. Until he saw her. He stiffened, gave her a curt bow, then left.

Now what was that about? She thought. She’d never liked Dufresne. Of all the strange characters on her brother’s ship, he was the strangest. She’ thought him odd, but certainly harmless, but now she wondered. You never knew with anyone, she mused, ambition could spring up in the unlikeliest of characters, though to her, Dufresne seemed the least likely.

“Billy,” she started to say, but he cut her off.

“Not now, Cathy, I have to do something.” He started to follow Dufresne out the door, but she grabbed his arm.

“Yes, now. This won’t take long, as long as you feel like talking.” She headed to her rooms, still holding his arm in a grip with a strength that surprised him. She did not feel like putting this off. Talking to Billy would be the hardest, or the easiest, task she faced. 

She pulled him through the door, shut it behind them. “Now, I want to know, I want to know a lot of things, but first the question I should have asked you in the beginning. Why were you back here when Flint and the crew had yet to turn up in Nassau? The truth now, Billy, I’ll know if you’re lying. I always know when people lie. Ruby Marie says it’s a gift I have, though frankly it seems like curse sometimes.” 

She shoved him down into a chair, leaning over him. “Now, talk. I’ll slit your throat if you try to get away, I swear. I want to know once and for all what is going on on this damn island.”

Billy chose to be as blunt as her. “Your brother failed to save me from falling off the Walrus during the storm. I don’t know if it was by accident—or not. I was picked up by an English ship, the Scarborough. If you really want to know what happened, they tortured me to try to find out what I knew. Eventually they released me and I returned to Nassau and chose this inn so I could hide. I didn’t want to let anyone know I was in port.”

“I found out from Ned Low. He found out about you and told me. Did you tell him about the Scarborough?” She paused a moment, “So you weren’t with Flint when he found the Urca?”

“No. I suspect he found the gold and had to leave it behind. I get the impression it’s lying on a Florida beach, but I don’t know if he can retrieve it or not. You Flints are known for your greed, so I imagine that he hasn’t given up on the prospect.”

Yes, you’re right, Billy, we Flints are greedy and grasping, and I’m no exception. “You’re not telling me everything, Billy my love,” she said aloud, “The English don’t exactly set pirates free willingly, you would have had to pay a price for your freedom.”

“You know I won’t tell you, Cathy, you’re smart enough to figure it out on your own. If it makes you feel any better, though, I can assure you the English don’t particularly care about you. I don’t think they care about your little robbery.” She looked at him and he corrected himself, “Well, not so little, robbery. And if they do, you can always pay someone off.”

She stood up. “Ouch, that wasn’t nice. Good to know, but not nice. You’re right, Billy, I can figure out enough on my own. I’d ask you if you’d talked to my brother, but I don’t think I need to know, I don’t think it’s even important. I’m more concerned for Eleanor. I think Vane is holding Abigail Ashe prisoner; and if she’s associated herself with Charles, well, the English, if they do come to Nassau, will go after him, then she may find herself next. I hope that someone gets that poor girl out of the fort and somewhere safe. I think Flint knows about her, but he hasn’t shared it with me if he does.”

“Cathy,” said Billy slowly, “I like to think that we’ve always been friends. Gates and I have always tried to look after you. You’re not the little girl who ran away from England with her brother anymore. You pulled off a daring bit of thievery and got away with it. You’ve lived in Europe, on your own, you’ve learned to take care of yourself. If I were you, I’d get away from here. Go back to Europe, you’ll be safer there than here. Stay away from Nassau as long as you can.”

“Believe me, Billy, I want to. But someone has to save Eleanor from herself; she may listen to me because I’m not Vane, and I’m not her father. I’ve never been her lover, like Max, we’ve always been friends. I owe her that much. She helped me get my start on this island. My god, we’ve even shared a man! But I want to leave, I want to live somewhere civilized. France or Italy would suit me just fine. I want to wear my fine dresses, and converse with educated people again. I could hide in the drawing rooms of Europe forever, I think.

“Get on a ship to Port Royal, then,” he told her, “You can take a ship to wherever you like from there and disappear. I know Flint will want to know you’re safe and happy. I don’t think Vane has ever done you much good, you’re too good for him, and for me, too.”

“We were good enough for each other to have fun. You’re a handsome man, Billy, and popular with the ladies, but you’re right, you’re not good enough.” She leaned down and kissed him on the lips. “Pirates don’t suit me anymore, I don’t think they ever have. I was looking forward to a lifetime of married slavery, so I made up my mind when I shook free of it. I’ll always owe you for helping me escape from Charles. If I can ever do you a favor I will.” She let him up, “Now go and do whatever it was you thought so important.”  
He grabbed her by the arms, “Maybe it can wait, eh? Maybe it’s not so important as I thought.”

“I’m not in the mood, Billy,” she extricated herself gently from his arms, “After Vane and Ned Low, I think I’ve had my fill of men for the moment.” It occurred to her that she had not bathed since she and Charles had made love. She had the sudden urge to get into a tub of water and scrub herself as hard as she could, scrub all the evidence of him from her body. Vane, Ned Low, she wanted all traces of both of them gone.

“I need to go,” said Billy regretfully, he genuinely hoped he could have taken her to bed, but he understood. He kissed her and went out the door.

She watched him leave, vaguely regretful. She collapsed on the bed, so tired that she could not keep her eyes open, and slept until late in the evening, when a sound woke her up.   
Knocking at her door, again. Will they ever cease bothering me, she thought, maybe this is a dream and it will stock. Knock, knock, knock, came the sound at the door. Go away, I’m too tired to get up, too tired to speak to anyone. 

But it persisted. Wearily, she rose from her bed and went to answer the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I left the ending like this because I am not even sure what happened next!


	22. An Uncertain Turn of Events

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flint if going to Charles Town, to return Abigail Ashe to her father, hoping that he can use this as leverage to negotiate with Ashe a pardon for the pirates of Nassau. As insurance, since they were acquainted in the days when he was "James McGraw", he is bringing Miranda Barlow with him. He sends Silver to fetch his sister, so that they may have some time before the evening tide, but Cathy will have none of it. She tells Silver that her brother is on a suicide mission, and pleads with him to save her brother. She also informs him that she was betrothed to Lord Peter Ashe, and after Flint's disgrace, she sent word for him to come and help her escape the marriage. She herself gives a "parting gift" to Silver, surprising both him and herself with how much she likes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It came to me that Peter Ashe could have been the man Cathy was betrothed to. She objected to his being so much older than she, and maybe Cathy is not the marry kind after all.

Cathy smoothed her clothes and her hair, then opened the door. Before her stood an urchin with a note held in one grubby hand, the palm extended from the other. She put a coin in his hand, not watching as he ran off.

She looked up to see two men carrying her chest. “My god, forgive me, bring it in here,” and directed them to a corner where she hoped it might be least conspicuous. She compensated them generously with the coin of the realm, and they tipped their hats to her, thanking her for her kindliness, then left to spend their newly earned cash on rum.  
Before she even read the note, she looked over the chest to make sure it had not been tampered with. Sure enough, no one had tried to force the special locks she had installed. Then, and only then, she allowed herself to sit down and break the seal on the parchment paper note.

“I can’t take care of this anymore,” the note read, “So I am returning it to you in the same condition you entrusted it to me. Be careful, Cathy, events have taken a turn that not even I can predict with any certain outcome.”

“Eleanor Guthrie,” Cathy finished out loud, “What is going on, Eleanor? Things have changed here, and certainly not for the better. Charles in the fort and Hornigold on the beach is not a good thing.” She sat, chin in hand for a moment. “I need some rum,” she told herself and poured a generous glass.

She looked out the window at the harbor. She missed Nassau, missed her rooms, missed the sight of the harbor full of ships, the tall limestone fort watching over them like a grey, silent monolith. This end of the island was blissfully quiet, and free of the commotion of Nassau. Yes, there were the pirates, there were the whores, and the inn keeper acted as the local fence, but at least here she felt hidden and safe from prying eyes. This place, indeed was a “pearl” of sorts.

She heard the creaking of hinges, and noise of heavy boot steps came into the room. She grabbed her dagger and stood up, ready to attack, to see nothing more menacing than John Silver standing before her.

“Haven’t you heard of knocking,” she asked, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

“Then you should learn to lock your door—has living here made you careless?” He stood, smiling, that annoying, gorgeously ingratiating smile. 

“Why are you here? What does my brother want?” She sighed and slid her knife back into its scabbard. She’d taken a risk when she forgot to lock her door, something she must be more careful of in the future.

“Flint wants you to come and see him, we’re getting ready to set sail. We’re going to catch the evening tide, and head to Charles Town.”

“Charles Town?” the alarm was plain in her voice, “Why? Has my brother a sudden notion to commit suicide? Don’t tell me, let me guess. He’s on his fool’s errand to convince Peter Ashe to reconcile with and pardon Nassau’s pirates, which I predict will last long enough for Ashe to find him guilty, and hang him. Peter Ashe, oh my god.”

She shook her head, “Did my brother ever tell you why he brought me to Nassau? I was to be married to Lord Peter Ashe. I believe his Lady Hamilton had something to do with it. I was not pleased with the prospect of being married to someone so much older than myself, and resisted as long as I could. Then, by some miracle, Flint and Miranda became disgraced, and I wrote my brother to please come and fetch me, as Lord Ashe was determined to proceed with the marriage. Flint came, helped me escape, and I’ve lived here ever since.”

“No.” Silver seemed confused, “So your brother knew Peter Ashe…did you know that we have his daughter on board, and are returning her to her father? He’s also bringing Miranda Barlowe with him as chaperone and safeguard.”

“Oh my god, does he think that will give him leverage? Persuade him? My brother is on a suicide mission. For someone so shrewd, so intelligent, my brother lets his idealism affect his judgment. I’d go with you, only I have no wish to put myself anywhere near Charles Town. My advice to you would be to dissuade him from this fool’s errand. As much as he exasperates me at times, I have no desire to lose my brother.” She came up to him, so closely that he could smell her perfumed hair. She put her slender hands on his shoulders, “Please, Silver,” she whispered, “Save my brother.”

Then she surprised him by sliding her hands up into his hair, pulling him to her. She put her lips on his, drinking him deep. 

“No,” he tried to say, but it was too late. She was unbuttoning his jacket, pulling down his shirt. When her hands reached his belt, it was all over. He ripped open the bodice of her dress, freeing her breasts. The way that they felt in his hands, their round firmness, was driving him crazy. By the time he lifted her up and lay her on the bed, he knew that he wouldn’t be bringing her to the Spaniard, and he’d be lucky to make the tide. All he knew was that he wanted the girl, and nothing as trivial as sailing on the evening tide could change his mind. 

“ I can’t stay long,” he warned as she jerked his pants down. “Oh, fuck,” he sighed, “If your brother finds out about this, he’ll kill me.”

“Then don’t let him find out, it’s none of his business, now is it?” This time she was the one at a loss for words as he ripped off the last of her clothes.

Their goodbyes were long and reluctant, in spite of his need to hurry. Ever the gentleman, he helped her dress and ran a brush through her long hair. 

She was finding herself reluctant to let him go. “Silver, take care of my brother. I’m afraid for him, if I lose him, I lose the only family I have. There’s no going back to Cathy McGraw, I buried her a long time ago.”

“I’ve got to go.” He held her close and kissed the tears forming on her cheeks. “Goodbye,” he said simply, and was out the door.

She tied her hair back, and went down to the tavern. She had a plate piled high with pork cooked on a spit, yams, and slices of pineapple. The waitress set down a mug filled to the brim with rum, and winked at her.

Her mind wandered back to Eleanor’s mysterious return of her treasure chest. How odd, she mused, why would she do that? Something is going on, but in Nassau, something was always going on. Eleanor was could be undependable, blowing this way and that way with the wind, but to her friends she was never less than trustworthy. Something must be scaring her. Was it the Scarborough? Was it her father? Richard Guthrie had had his eye on the governorship of Nassau for years, were his efforts now beginning to bear fruit?

And what about Charles? Why had he come to her? It couldn’t just be to taunt her about Ned Low. He was fucking two women—at least—he had no right to jealousy, not anymore. The time for that was long past. Charles admired independent women, but he did not deal easily with their independence.

In the morning she would have Naya saddled, and ride to Eleanor’s offices. If he was there, she would have a long talk with Richard Guthrie. God knows she could not stand the man, but nothing happened in Nassau that he did not know about.

Her dreams that night were confusing. A gallows, a noose, a town burning. A clock that hung in Thomas Hamilton’s study. Ship cannons firing, men bloodied and dying. What did it mean?

She hurried through breakfast, then saddled Naya herself. She cantered up the beach, looking ahead for what she did not know. Upon reaching Nassau she took her horse to the stable, threatening the wrath of god to any stable hand that did not rub her down properly before they put her in a stall. 

She stepped out, looking towards the fort. A crowd of rooks was flying above it. That was not normal. She ran to the fort, looking up and wondering why there were no men on the walls. That was not normal. There was always someone keeping watch. Charles Vane was determined not to let any ship in the harbor that may pose a threat.

A group of men, led by Jack Rackham, were coming out of the gates. She looked more closely and saw them bearing a body—whose body? A chill ran up her spine and she suddenly had a desire to leave Nassau, never to return. Things were spinning out of control and if she was not careful, she would be caught up in them.

As they approached her, Rackham raised his hand to halt. “Bad news,” he said, “We found Richard Guthrie’s body.”

“And the fort deserted, yes? Has Charles brought down his wrath on Eleanor? Did she steal little Abigail Ashe from him?”

“You know as much as I. I wouldn’t recommend that you see Mistress Guthrie for a few hours. I won’t want to be around her myself.” He tipped his hat and the men carried on their grisly task.

She watched the men trailing after Richard Guthrie’s body. Suddenly she was possessed by a desire to see Max, but she wanted to avoid passing them. A sudden desire to look in the fort, almost a compulsion, overwhelmed her and she steeled herself to do the unthinkable and enter the fort. To not do so now seemed impossible, though abhorrent. She took a deep breath and putting one foot carefully, deliberately, in front of the other, she passed through the gates.

The first thing that greeted her eyes made them fill with tears. Someone had erected a crude cross. Bloodied ropes lay at its base, leaving no doubt as to what they had been intended for. How long had it taken him to die?

Falling on her knees, she started to cry. Not for Richard Guthrie, she’d never liked him, but for the cruel means of his death. And this had, partially, been her fault. Had she stayed with Charles she may not have stopped this, but maybe could have prevented it. She had a knack for knowing what went on behind the grey stone walls. The men liked her, talked to her, and to an extent, she’d liked them, too. Eleanor was pretentious and pushy, she had an imperious way about her that Vane’s men did not like. Had she been aware of it?

And she had a knack for calming Charles down—well, sometimes, she admitted. Could she have persuaded Charles to pursued a different tactic? She had never needed to wage war against Charles, she simply did not carry that kind of anger within her. And she understood him, in a way Eleanor didn’t, even though they came from different worlds.  
She ran through the fort, noting the debris and refuse that had been left behind. It had always smelled bad, but now the smell of death made it worse. She ran down the stairs to the dungeons, seeing how the cells were empty. Where had Abigail Ashe been kept? How could he have kept a young girl imprisoned down here, anyway? She’d never understand the cruelty of a Ned Low, or a James Flint—or a Charles Vane.

Suddenly she could bear it no more, she felt like she could no longer breathe the stale, fetid air. She ran out of the dungeon into Vane’s rooms, then into the courtyard. She refused to look at the cross that still stood there, and ran out of the fort and did not stop until she reached the brothel.

The inn was her first destination. She quickly downed two glasses of rum, feeling the heat spread through her body and the pleasant lightness spread through her head. The new proprietor thanked her as she set down too much money in payment, not yet familiar with the way Cathy Flint liked to overpay.

The next stop may not be too difficult, as long as her feet worked. Not yet drunk, but not quite sober, that’s me, she giggled. She went up to the brothel, looking for Max in the common room, but there was no sign of the Creole madame. She sought out her room, hoping Max was not entertaining one of her rare customers; she very much needed to talk.  
She was tempted to bang on the door, calling out her name. What sort of rum had she drank, anyway? She could usually tolerate the fiery island rums, but something seemed to be wrong with her. She had to hold onto the door as she knocked, her feet were simply not cooperating.

“Max, you bitch, you better not have had me drugged,” she yelled, careless of whether or not anyone could hear her. And when Max opened the door, she feel face down onto her floor.

“Mon dieu,” said Max softly, “Who do you think did this to you, Cherie?”

“I don’t know, Max, I’m afraid I’m going to pass out. I don’t know what they gave me. I don’t think I can…”

She had Cathy put on her bed, then called both the doctor, and the old Obeah woman, Ruby Marie. The doctor and the conjure woman respected each other, stayed out of the other’s way. She needed to know if Cathy had been drugged, or if she had been poisoned. Cathy seemed to be breathing, did not show signs of stomach distress, but Max would take no chances.

“Who did this to you?” she thought, Cathy was the person least likely to cause harm to anyone. Right now there were rumors coming up about something that had happened at the fort, but what, no one knew for certain yet. Had Cathy found out something she should not have, or was someone afraid that she might know certain facts she should not? Max had a feeling that changes were coming to Nassau, and the town was not going to be the same again, ever.


	23. Resurrection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cathy has recovered from the attempt on her life. Though she does not know who, she suspects that Captain Hornigold may have tried to get her out of the way in case she tried to save Eleanor. Ruby Marie and Max nurse her back to health, but now she does not feel safe in Nassau, and retreats to the inn, "The Pearl" where she will be able to see when her brother's ship arrives safely in Nassau.
> 
> Eleanor is on a ship bound for England and His Majesty's justice. She reflects on her life and how she was glad that her father never returned to Boston, for it enabled her to have the life that she had. The only thing she is wondering, that keeps nagging at her is, what will it be like to hang?
> 
> Flint and Vane are on their way back to Nassau. They are ignorant of what has happened to both Cathy and Vane. Vane reflects on what Cathy has told him, there can be no kings in Nassau, only the one that sits on the throne in London. He compares Eleanor and Cathy, realizing that Cathy has perhaps escaped harm on Nassau because she doesn't really desire anything. And he remembers one thing that she has told him over the years: if he does not change his life, he is doomed to swing

Had Cathy any sense of awareness, she might have thought she was dead. All was black, she knew nothing, no voices, no sense of time. Just nothingness.

But if she had, she would have heard the voices. “Is she going to make it?” “I don’t know”. “Was it poison?” “Mebbe, but I don’t t’ink so. I think they give her opium, a lot.” “Were they trying to kill her?” “Chile, I dunno. You ax me too many questions. She be still breathin’. If she open she eyes, she be okay. Now you go and let me tak care of her.”

When she did open her eyes, the first thing she did was lean over bed and begin to vomit. She was not aware that Ruby Marie had slipped a bowl beneath her head, only that when she was finally able to quit, her head spun around so badly that she leaned over and threw up bile, for her stomach was empty—and burning.

Ruby laid her gently back on the pillow. The nausea she was feeling was unbearable, but slowly she was becoming aware of her surroundings. “I’m in Max’s room,” she thought as she fought through the nausea. Ruby put a cup of something that tasted as bad as it smelled. “Drink,” said the old Obeah woman, “We gotta get the poisons out of you.”  
Cathy knew the drill. The first cup came up, and Ruby put another under her nose. She drank, with no objections. She’d used the same potion on Charles, and knew that if she was alive now, she was going to make it. 

She lay back on the pillow, “I think it was opium, I don’t know if they intended to give me this much or not. I can’t think of someone who would want to kill me.”  
“Ah, but can you think of anyone who would want you out of the way.” Max came into the room and took her hand.

“I can’t talk now, Max, my head hurts so badly I can’t even think. I can sleep now, I’m not afraid, but keep Idella out of here, just in case.” Max kissed her forehead and left.  
This time when she slept, the dreams came. Eleanor pleading her innocence as she hung from a gibbet. Ned Low’s headless corpse, his head tucked under its arm, chasing her as he professed his love for her. Richard Guthrie’s mutilated bloody body took her by the arm saying, “See, this is what will happen if you don’t get away from him.” And, lastly, running from Charles only to have him pull her to him with her long hair, saying, “You can’t escape me, no matter how hard you try you will always belong to me.”  
When she sat up, the dizziness was not so bad, her stomach still burned but that would improve him time. “I need to eat, but I don’t know if I can.”

Ruby Marie came into the room holding a tray. “I make ye some chicken broth, twill settle yer stomach. De bread be fresh, I get in from the baker meself. Nice creamy butter for yer stomach. Ye gotta eat, child.” And she sat, mother fashion, while Cathy ate, then took the tray away. “Ye might wanna get up, ye slept most of the day.” She leaned over and kissed Cathy on top of her red tresses. “Don’t ye worry, ye be safe when Ruby Marie is around.”

Cathy felt comforted by the presence of the old Obeah woman, She knew she could trust Max, but there was no one else. She didn’t want to think about whether someone had attempted to kill her, or merely get her out of the way. She suspected that someone had given her an overdose of opium in her rum, but on whose orders? Would the bartender still be there, or would he mysteriously disappear. 

Max came in looking dark and lovely in her sheer robe. She sat next to Cathy and embraced here. “I was so scared, cherie, for a while we didn’t know if you would make it. I’m trying to manage the inn as well as the brothel, and both are taking up too much of time.”

“What do you mean, you’re managing the inn? Where’s Eleanor? I know something is going on, she wouldn’t have sent my loot away, but…”

“You didn’t know?” Max’s mouth was a round “O”, she was arrested by the British and put on a ship to England. With Richard Guthrie dead there’s nothing to stand between her and the gallows, at least that’s what they’re saying.”

Cathy lay back on her pillow and groaned. “Maybe that explains it, whoever was after her wanted me out of the way. Did they mean to kill me and not succeed, I wonder? If someone doesn’t contact her family in Boston, she has no protection at all—if they’ll even help her. And my brother’s probably in Charles Town by now, and I have no way of knowing what’s happened. Did Charles realize when he killed Richard Guthrie he might be killing his daughter, too? Oh Max, this is a mess, and I don’t know where to begin to fix it.”

“There’s one more thing,” said Max, and whispered something in her ear.

“NO! It couldn’t be! Damn Jack Rackham, my brother lost men over capturing that gold, and Rackham scoops it up behind his back. Damn. Damn. Damn. I don’t even know what to do. If my brother were here…,” she trailed off. “I told him he was on a fool’s errand. I don’t know where Charles is. I don’t know where my brother is.”  
Max could see she was becoming agitated, and that would not help her recovery. She pushed her down on the bed. “You need to rest.” It wasn’t enough but it was all that she could think of to say. 

“Who’s going to take over Eleanor’s role in the consortium, Max? Those captains are the probably the ones responsible for what happened to her, but someone has to run the business, or Nassau will turn into nothing more than a stop on the way to Port Royal to do business. Do they realize just how good she was at her job? No Richard, no Eleanor, no Scott, how in the world do they expect to do business? She was the heart and soul of the operation, and they’ve sent her off to be hanged. God save me from pirates!!”  
One of the girls brought in a tray with tea—Cathy had not yet recovered sufficiently to drink rum. She watched as Max poured cups for the two of them, noting her steady arm, wondering if she had started out as someone’s house slave and been taught to serve.

“I wonder who wanted to kill me, it really doesn’t make much sense. Were they afraid I was going to interfere in their plans for Eleanor? Well, how could I have known what they were planning, I’m not on intimate terms with any of them. Was it Idella, was she afraid I was going to take Charles back? I’m surprised they even got away with it—practically everyone in Nassau knows me, and I don’t have any enemies, or I didn’t think I had any enemies, none that I know of. I don’t think anyone who knew me could have done this—I wonder where the bartender at the inn has gone. It has to have been him, he’s certainly a new face, and not from the ships.”

“Miss Cathy,” Captain Hornigold stood in the doorway, “He was found this morning in a ditch with his throat cut. Though we’ll probably never know who did it, the man who tried to kill you has gone to his just rewards.”

You bastard, she thought, just how much did you hear? Doesn’t matter, this whole damn island will be looking out for me now. Had Flint made it back with the gold, everyone would have stood to benefit, now what will Rackham do? He hasn’t a generous bone in his body. 

“Thank you Captain Hornigold,” she said, sounding as obsequious as she could, she could deal with him later, “I really don’t think anyone will make any more attempts on my life, do you? I am grateful that I have so many friends on this island looking after my interests.” She raised her brows, gave him one of her sweetest smiles. He bowed and left the room.

Cathy watched him leave. “If I thought I could get away with it, I’d gladly cut his throat, but he’s not worth the risk of swinging. I want my brother, Max, is there anyone in port that would be willing to look for him, for a price, that is? And I can’t leave Eleanor to her fate, and there’s no guarantee that Flint could intercept whichever ship she’s on. I don’t envy her right now.”

Eleanor would have agreed with her. She sat alone in the brig, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders that one of the crew had thoughtfully provided for her. Various men crept down to have a look at the blond beauty facing charges of treason. They came away to their posts, shaking their heads. What had she been thinking, anyway? What business did a young woman like her have doing business with pirates? Why did she have no husband, for she was clearly of age, to look out for her and keep her in line?   
One or two of the bolder ones would throw these questions in her face, and found themselves roundly cursed for their troubles. She’d be no fit wife, or anything now, she might as well swing, for she’d be an old woman before she was allowed to leave Newgate Prison.

She was giving thought to these same questions right now. If her mother hadn’t died, if her father hadn’t brought her to Nassau, if the men from the Scarborough hadn’t come and left him wounded. If, if, if. No use even thinking about it, really.

She was glad her father had never returned to Boston. She had so much more freedom in the islands, and then the chance to be her own woman and prove to her father that she was capable of running their business. It was his fault, really, shutting down the operation. (She conveniently forgot that Flint stealing the twelve pounders from the Andromache had been the final blow to her father’s plans) It wasn’t until her father had shut down the family operation that she had taken matters into her own hands. She just hadn’t foreseen the consequences.

What was it like to hang? She thought morbidly, she’d heard it was fifteen minutes or so torturous slow strangulation. If the hangman could be bribed into breaking your neck when he put you in the noose, well, you’d hardly feel anything, now would you? But who would do that for her now? Her father was dead, Flint was god only knows where, if he were still alive, and what had happened to Cathy?

She remembered a line from one of the old nursery rhymes her mother would tell her, “If ‘ifs and ands’ were pots and pans, there’d be no work for tinkers.” She thought herself strong and capable, a woman who knew her own mind, and how to carry out her plans, but now she had never felt so alone, so utterly abandoned in her life. Hoping that for a while no one would come down below decks, she let her proud head droop, and began to cry.

On the fourth day, Cathy felt much better, even almost well. She sent a message to the stable and asked them to saddle Naya, then borrowed a gown from Max. She’d ordered the dress she’d worn to be burned, she wanted to memory of her ordeal.

She stood in front of the mirror and brushed her hair. She’d taken a bath and eaten, and now she was going as far away from here as she could. She no longer felt safe. The memory of her ordeal was so vivid, so frightening, that she would take no chances.

“Your horse is ready,” Max told her, “Are you sure there is nothing more I can do?”

Cathy hugged her. “No, nothing. I’m not safe here, Max, or at least I think I’m not safe. I’ll be safer at the Pearl, and if my brother returns I will see him before anyone in Nassau does. I’ve made friends there with enough people that I won’t have to be on my guard. When Flint gets back, then I can start to do something about this. I don’t think I want to be around him when he finds out the Urca’s gold was stolen, though. If there is something to be done about Eleanor, he’ll know what to do, or we can put our heads together and figure it out.” She picked up the bag of things she’d taken from her rooms, “Don’t tell Hornigold I’m gone, just in case. I want to be out of Nassau before he hears of it.”

 

Out at sea…

A ship cannot have two captains, it simply will not work. Both Flint and Vane knew this, and for the love of a red headed girl, they were doing their best to cooperate. Both were capable and experienced, both knew the sea. Both were excellent men at the helm, and as long as no trouble appeared, like foul weather or the appearance of a man o’war, the journey home would probably be made safely.

Vane allowed Flint a little leeway—a little. He didn’t quite know the story of the woman, and Flint wasn’t talking, but he assumed the man had suffered a severe loss with her death, and Vane knew all about grief. On the outside Flint seemed to possess a grim stoicism, his attentions were focused on his ship and only his ship. Flint was tough, and Charles respected that.

Vane’s thoughts would drift back to Eleanor, then to Cathy, then back to Eleanor. He regretted now the murder of Richard Guthrie, it was not fair that the father should have suffered for the sake of the offenses of the daughter. What would Cathy tell him, “You should have taken it out on her, Vane, it wasn’t Richard Guthrie’s who freed Abigail Ashe and handed her over to Flint. I wouldn’t count on her taking you back now, if that’s what you hoped to accomplish. I don’t think you ever really consider the consequences of your actions.”

Somehow it wasn’t Eleanor he was thinking of. Cathy Flint was the most unlikely girl he could have envisioned himself with. Eleanor was hungry, she wanted to to a power in Nassau, someone to be reckoned with. Cathy, however, didn’t care. Cathy had adapted to the easy ways of the island, her ambitions consisted of living a life that made her happy. Unlike Eleanor she had nothing to prove to anyone, and knew it. 

That was one of the reasons he admired her. When she had had enough of him, she had left the island, pulled off a daring robbery people still spoke of, then disappeared. It had taken intelligence and guts for her to do what she did. The Viceroy’s treasure had been her Urca de Lima, but once she had accomplished it, she had been content to slip into obscurity. Cathy wanted neither greed nor glory, she simply wanted to live her life.

Eleanor wanted to rule, Flint wanted to rule, he wanted to rule. What would Cathy say? “You’re fools, all of you. The British are going to take back New Providence, Nassau is too profitable to relinquish. If you were smart, you’d hoard your treasure and find a quiet place to live where no one will bother you. There will be no kings or queens of Nassau, the only king we’ll see is the one living in London. ‘Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown’. Find a place to live where no one will bother you because no one cares.”

He wondered if she’d take him back. Cathy did not tend to hold grudges, but he had to admit that sex, perhaps, was all they had in common. Flint and Cathy had grown up in a comfortable, middle class home, while he had been a street urchin, scrambling for food and a shelter at night. He recalled being cuffed aside by footmen to make way for their master’s carriage. He remembered the brocade coats and the carriages, the litters bearing members of the nobility on their ways to unknown destination.

He had been envious, then jealous, then angry. He vowed that he would have that kind of wealth someday, and if he could not earn it, then by god, he would not hesitate to steal it. It had been a long journey, but he had gone from a nobody to a name that people feared. The name “Charles Vane” or the “Ranger” set fear in the heart of both sailors and pirates alike. He was brutal and ruthless, but it had earned him the life and wealth that he craved.

Then, her warning came back to him. “Keep this up, Charles, and you’re going to swing.”

“What makes you so sure of that?” he’d asked.

Then a look on her face that frightened him. Suddenly someone was looking at him, a someone or something with great hollow eyes and ash pale skin. “I know because I know. I can see it in your eyes, you’re not long for this world. If you choose to continue this way of life, you are going to find yourself in a noose. Whether you live or die will depend on the choice you make. Make the right one, you live, if not…” Then she seemed to become Cathy again, and he told himself he had imagined it, that was all.

 

Cathy was settled back in her rooms at the Pearl. She’d taken a new room, one which had a balcony so she could step outside and watch for the ship. Each day she stepped out, noting one day that there were lights in the fort again. She saw every ship that came into port, wondering what would happen now that Eleanor was gone. Who was consigning the goods now? Who was as good at it as Eleanor?  
Late one evening, just before the sun set in that rapid change of the tropics, she stepped out onto the balcony. Then, she saw it, a ship with the Spanish cross on its sails, but not a Spaniard. She ran to the stables and put a bridle on Naya, and rode bareback to the beach. There were two figures on the bridge, two that recognized her and waved. 

They were home at last.


	24. Bad News Comes in More than Threes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vane and Flint have returned to Nassau to find that things have taken a drastic turn for the worse. Eleanor is on a ship and on her way to England to face charges of treason. Someone attempted to poison Cathy with an overdose of opium, and she still is not quite well. She does not know, but suspects it could have been on the orders of Captain Hornigold, who is also responsible for Eleanor's fate. Rackham has stolen the Urca's gold, and is thankfully unaware that Cathy knows of its existence and its location. And Charles has slain Richard Guthrie, who might have helped save his daughter. Things are looking grim, indeed.

She looked out at the sails billowing in the wind. They’d have to keep going until they hove to. Looking around she saw an urchin digging in the sand, possibly for lost coins. She drew a shilling out of her pocket and held it up so he could see.

He quit his efforts and ran over to her. She slid off Naya and handed the boy her reins. “Take my horse to the Pearl, and if you do as I ask, there will be another shilling for you.” She put the coin in his hands and watched as he ran off, as fast as the horse would cooperate.

“Okay,” she said to herself, “Find a boat, someone who’s willing to catch and follow my brother.” She wandered down to the water’s edge, where men at idly, waiting for someone to hire their services.

She held up a small gold coin. “See the Spaniard? I need to catch up to her and follow her until she stops. Is anyone interested?”

One man, dark and swarthy answered her, “Of course, mademoiselle. My skiff is the fastest and I am the most skilled of sailors amongst these others. I would be happy to help you.” 

She handed him the coin and got into his boat. “I am going on board as soon as she heaves to. My brother is the captain (well, I think so) and I wish to surprise him."

It was an unusual sensation, being so close to the water. True to his word, the little dark Frenchman skillfully steered his skiff in pursuit of the ship. For a short while, she thought they could not catch her, but soon they were running at her side. They seemed so close that Cathy expected to be splashed from the wake. But water did not even reach them when they dropped anchor.

The boatman steered his skiff as close as he dared to the Spaniard. Cathy stood, holding onto the mast, and called, “Ahoy, who is aboard?”

Billy Bones poked his blond head over the side. “Ahoy, Cathy, are you coming aboard?”

“Ay,” she answered, and he dropped the step ladder down so that she could board.

The boatman eased his skiff closer to the man o’war, and she dropped another coin into his boat before mounting the ladder. She didn’t watch as he sailed away or saw the tip to his hat that he gave to her. She saw only Billy’s outstretched hand as he reached to help her aboard and the dark red hair of her brother as he stood talking to Silver. She returned the quick embrace that Billy gave her, and started towards her brother, when Charles suddenly took her in his arms and held her tightly.

She didn’t know what to do, she was returning his embrace without really meaning to, and she smelled the familiar scent of gunpowder and sweat as she found herself pressed tightly to his chest. No, she thought, this is not where I want to be, I have fought too hard to free myself from him. But as always, she found herself contemplating the conundrum of why she and Charles seemed to fit. She hated him sometimes, like hating him for killing Richard Guthrie, but maybe she knew him too well to truly hate him. Sometimes she wondered if he was her destiny, and destiny could not be fought, only followed.

She pushed him gently away, “I want my brother,” she said, and Flint came over and took her in his arms. Through all their fights, despite all their differences, she remained his little sister. She knew Charles didn’t understand their bond, any more than Billy or Silver, but it was still there. Having him hold her, just having him there, made her feel she was truly home, no matter where they were.

“I have to talk to you,” she told them, “You, Charles, Silver, and Billy. Things have happened, things you need to know about—and none of what I have to tell you is good. Can we meet in your cabin now?”

“All right.” He let go of her and motioned to the three others. Cathy he never questioned. If she said something was serious, it was. She was not prone to fancy, was level headed and sensible. Something was obviously up, and if she said he needed to know, that was it.

In his cabin, she sat next to him and held his hand for reassurance. She looked at the others as if contemplating what to say then said, “Eleanor has been captured by the British, she’s on her way to face trial for treason in England.”

“What? When did this happen. Give me dates, Cathy.” He let go of her hand, astounded at what he heard.

“I can’t give you dates. I’m lucky I’m alive. Someone at the inn put an overdose of opium in my rum. This is my first day out of bed, if you must know. And if you want to know whom I suspect, I am guessing that Hornigold is behind it. He did this to me before Eleanor was taken, I think he was afraid I was going to find out and get her away before he could get his hands on her. I missed Richard Guthrie’s funeral and I don’t know what else. I think the consortium was starting to resent her. Those fools didn’t realize…”

“Richard Guthrie’s funeral? Whatever are you speaking of, Cathy?” Flint could not believe what he was hearing. When he left Nassau to head to Charles Town, everything appeared normal, or as normal as Nassau ever would be.

“I think Charles can tell you about that.” She looked accusingly at Vane, and he realized he would have to answer to her for it. Now that time had passed, he regretted killing Guthrie. He had hoped to put it out of his mind and forget it, as he had so many others, but he knew Cathy would hold him to account. What had she told him once, “It appears that I am your conscience Charles, for you seem to have lost yours along the way.”

“Can we discuss this later? I know I will be made to pay the piper.” He smiled at her and watched the corners of her mouth twitch as she tried not to smile in return.  
“Well, what if I wish to discuss it now?” insisted Flint.

“There is a more important matter, something you will want to know. May I continue?” he nodded his head.

She took a deep breath, looked round the table. “Rackham has stolen the Urca gold. I found this out from Max after I regained consciousness. She knows where it is, but hasn’t told me yet. I haven’t been well enough to do anything about it. I don’t think it will be moved, but I don’t know Rackham’s mind.”

“How did he get it?” Silver spoke for the first time.

“Well, somehow word must have spread about the location. Max told me there was a battle, but Rackham prevailed in the end. His new crew, you know, were much fresher than the Spaniards who had been on the beach guarding it for weeks. Anyway, he was able to capture it, and for some reason told Max about it, not realizing that out of friendship, Max would tell me. Not that I’m in any position to do anything about it.”

“Anyway, you are in a quandary. If they get Eleanor to England, she will hang for sure. And if that gold is left in Rackham’s tender care it will not be safe for long, or remain where it is. That is your gold, big brother, as far as I am concerned. Rackham paid no price for it, he merely took it. Now, I know you need to rest and re-fit the ship, but if you don’t do something soon, you will lose both gold and Eleanor.”

“Oh, I almost forgot, Hornigold has taken back the fort and begun to rebuild it. That fort meant a lot to him, and he didn’t take losing it lightly.” She covered her face and shook her head, “I don’t know why he tried to poison me, if it was him. What could I have done about any of this? I don’t even know if I could have gotten Eleanor to safety, or if she would have gone. I hate being caught up in all your plots and schemes. All I want now is to find a place that is quiet and safe, away from the hell that is Nassau.”

She looked from one to another, reading their faces. Her brother would forget about what Richard Guthrie, but he would not forgive the stealing of the gold. And for friendship’s sake, he surely would not abandon Eleanor to her fate, but for now, what could he do? The English had a four day’s start on him, and the ship was in no shape to go back out. And there was the matter of the gold.

She stood up, and became very dizzy and had to sit down. “I’m not well enough yet for this,” she muttered, not really caring who heard. “I’m not well enough for this, I want my bed, and some hot tea.” She lapsed into incoherence and put her head down on the table.

“Charles, take the jolly boat and get her to shore and her rooms. In the meantime, what she told us does not go beyond this room. We have a big decision to make: do we go after Eleanor or do we go after the gold? I’m going to kill Jack Rackham.”

“No, I am,” countered Charles, “But we have to decide what to do about Eleanor. And when I find out who poisoned Cathy, I’m going to run them through.” He stroked Cathy’s hair, “Poor girl, you suffered for us all, it’s hardly fair.”

It was no easy task for her to get into the jolly boat, but they managed. She lay, huddled and miserable, in the prow of the boat, praying that he could get the boat to shore as quickly as possible. She shouldn’t have bothered, she was not yet strong enough to do what she did, but they had to be warned.

“Charles, what happened to Miranda Barlowe? I didn’t think to ask and Flint didn’t volunteer to tell me. I never liked the woman, but I hope nothing bad happened to her, or Abigail Ashe.”

“Mrs. Barlowe is dead,” he answered curtly, “But Abigail Ashe is fine and back in Charles Town. If you’re interested in knowing, Thomas Ashe is probably dead, too.”

“Good. I never wanted to see him again, and Lord knows I had no desire to go to Charles Town.” She raised herself up slightly, “Oh good, we’re almost there. All I want now is my bed and some bread and broth. I’m sorry Charles. I did not foresee this.”

“You couldn’t help it. Oh, there’s your old Obeah woman, I’ll have her help you. And Cathy,” he looked at her, his eyes serious, “Be careful. With all you’ve told us, I expect that there are British agents about.”

“Charles, they won’t be looking for me. I’m not involved in anything that could be considered treason. I’m worried about you and my brother. There aren’t so many ships in port, which makes me wonder if the consortium has ceased to be. If they come in here and take control, you’ll have to find somewhere else to do business. I don’t want to see the British take control of Nassau, but if what I’ve seen is any indication, that will be happening very soon. And, oh yes, I accept your apology.”

“For what?” he beached the boat and picked her up in his arms.

“For killing Richard Guthrie when you know you shouldn’t have.”

“Oh that, cost of doing business.” 

“I hate you sometimes,” she said, cuddled up to him. She saw Ruby Marie and waved, and the old woman began to follow them.

“And the rest of the time you love me,” he responded, and began to climb the stairs that led to her rooms.

He got her settled in, then looked at her and grinned. “I know what I’d be doing right now if you weren’t sick, but never mind, it can wait for another time.”

“Charles, what are you and my brother going to do? You’ve got to find a way to rescue Eleanor, or she’ll face the noose. And you’ve got to try to retrieve the gold before Rackham moves it. You don’t have a ship, and the two of you can’t be two places at once. And how do you know who you can trust? Hornigold has turned traitor, along with the rest. I don’t want to see Eleanor hang, I don’t want my brother to lose the gold.’

He leaned over and kissed her. “Hush now, don’t think about it. Get better, we need your mind and the way you can control your brother.”

“Don’t forget I can control you, too. Go, find a way to work a miracle. Tell my brother to come see me tomorrow, and have an eye out for English spies.” She waved him off, and pulled the sheet over her head.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and quietly closed the door on his way out.


	25. How Could You Use a Poor Maiden So?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flint is now back back in Nassau and none too pleased to find out that Rackham has his treasure from the Urca--but where is it? And Eleanor is on her way to England to stand trial for piracy and probably faces the noose. Cathy has now recovered from the attempt to kill her, but who is responsible? Her money is on Captain Hornigold. Vane takes her to visit Flint, and on the way back to shore, Cathy spots something very familiar. The hulk of a ship that has clearly seen better days is riding very low, and she recognizes her brother's old ship, the Walrus, which should be sitting on the sands of the coast of Florida.

At last, a new chapter for my long neglected “Black Sails”

Cathy knew full well that Vane could not work a miracle, any more than she. Instead she proceeded to sleep around the clock, waking the next evening as the sun was beginning to go down, feeling much better.

She lit a candle, then began to brush her long red hair. As she did, a song came to her from long ago, one that she’d always liked, and she began to sing:

“Early one morning, just as the sun was rising  
I heard a maid singing in the valley below  
Oh don’t deceive me, oh never leave me…”

“How could you use a poor maiden so?” Charles finished for her and held out his arms, waiting or her to come to him.

He wasn’t disappointed. She came to him as if the goodbye of the night before had been nothing out of the ordinary. Her hair smelled like the jasmine perfume she liked to wear, and he tightened his hold as his desire grew. She didn’t argue with him as he scooped her up and put her on the bed. Her nightgown fell to the floor, as did his clothes, and for a long while they may as well have been the only two people in Nassau.

Hunger became an important concern, and after they dressed, they wandered into the square, eating at the café she had always preferred to Eleanor’s inn.

It felt like it had been years since he’d seen her. She wore a blue silk sack gown, and her hair, tied carelessly back in a ribbon, seemed to glow in the candle light. He felt awkward, quiet, until she reached out a slim hand and touched his cheek. The magic between them, somehow was still there.

She let her hand drop. “Charles, what are we going to do about Eleanor? I don’t think there’s a ship in Nassau fast enough to catch up to her. I know she has distant family in England, but will they help her? All it would take, probably, would be to pay off the right people, and she could come back—unless they insisted she stay, in which case, poor Eleanor! She has family in Boston, would they take what her father did and hold it against her, or would they help? I could go to Boston, you know, no one is after me.”

“So in spite of…” but she cut him off

“You mean, in spite of you? Have I ever been the jealous type? Have I ever hesitated to sleep with someone else if you were being unfaithful? Surely, Charles, you know me better than that. Eleanor is my friend, and I want to help her.”

“The two of you,” he shook his head, “I always wondered what it would be like to have both of you in my bed. You’re more alike than sisters. And yes, you’ve always paid me back with my own coin. When I discovered that Low had been in your bed, I was furious beyond reason.”

“And went running back to Eleanor like a puppy. I think you’ve always loved the two of us because you knew we could do without you. I still can’t believe you killed Richard Guthrie, you should have come to me and I would have talked you out of it.”

She pushed her plate away, “Let’s go to the waterfall and make love in the moonlight. Besides, I don’t know who might be listening here. I think there are more British agents about than you’d suppose. They have their eye on Nassau, I expect to ships of the line any day.

“No, we can’t do that. I promised your brother I’d bring you to him.”

“Hours ago, I’m sure, I’m guessing he’s more interested in quizzing me about Rackham and the treasure than he is about Eleanor.”

“You may be right,” he agreed, and they wandered the waterfront until they found someone who was willing to row them out to the Spaniard.”

The hull of the Spaniard loomed like a shadow against the night. Though she didn’t want to be held prisoner on one in the days of her Cuban heist, she rather like the lines of the warship. There was something beautiful about a ship, especially a ship under sail. 

But a ship at anchor at night could be eerie. Cathy felt her skin crawling as they grew close to the hull, the oars making quiet splashes in the still water. There were ghosts on this ship, men had been killed, both Spanish and English. There were no obvious red stains, but Cathy knew they were there. A part of her would never make peace with her brother and her lover being pirates.

Billy pulled Cathy on board. “Flint’s waiting for you,” he told her, but he blocked Charles with his long arm, “He wants to speak to Cathy alone.” He escorted Cathy to Flint’s quarters, casting Vane a dirty look over his shoulder. 

Flint’s quarters were larger, more spacious than his old ones on the Walrus. Cathy looked around, taking in the library, and the ornate ironwork lamps.  
“So, what do you think?” he asked, watching her as she took it all in.

“I think you should have a bed put in, you can bolt it to the floor. There’s plenty of room. “The capitan,” she used the Spanish pronunciation, “Clearly had a taste for luxury. It would be a shame to waste it.”

“And what you would know about captain’s cabins with beds?”

“I wouldn’t. Most of the captains I slept with spent the night in my room. Or over by the waterfall. If I’m a passenger on a ship, that’s exactly what I am, a passenger, not a captain’s doxy.” She turned and smiled at him, “Not that a few weren’t interested, but I always said ‘no’ and yes, I did have offers.”

He laughed and poured a glass of rum for each. “Since you’re the only one who will tell me the truth, please tell me what happened after I left Nassau.”

“Well, Ned Low came to town while you were gone, and made trouble for Eleanor.” She had not yet decided if she wanted to tell him about her encounter with him. “Charles still held Abigail Ashe in the fort, and evidently he decided he wanted to cement his relationship with Eleanor, so he killed Low. Then he became so angry at Eleanor when she released Abigail Ashe and sent her to you, that he killed Richard Guthrie for revenge. That’s all I really know. I went to the fort after that and had a look inside, just to see what was left. You all had lit out for places unknown, which turned out to be Charles Town.”

“I don’t remember much after that. As I said, Charles was gone and so Eleanor had no one to protect her. Unfortunately, there was no one to protect me, either. Eleanor was attempting to exert more control over the consortium, and Hornigold and the rest were not happy. I guess that’s when they decided to turn her over to the British.”

“Now, I wasn’t sure that was coming, but it was pretty well known that there was a lot of friction between them. You don’t mess with Hornigold anymore than you mess with Eleanor. I don’t know if they summoned the Royal Navy from Harbor Island, or if they were just in the neighborhood anyway. All I know is that I was drinking at the inn, and someone spiked my drink with almost enough opium to kill me. I’d like to find out who did this to me. Max knows a lot about what goes on here these days and even she doesn’t know. She and Ruby nursed me back to health. Now I’m ready to go to war.”

“Cathy, I don’t like this, none of this, but I especially don’t like the fact that someone tried to harm you. Now, I do not know that it was him, but from what you’ve told me, I’m beginning to suspect that Hornigold has gone over to the British.”

“Which would work to his advantage if the British actually do take over the island. Hornigold would be in their good graces because he turned over a traitor. I would not be surprised if he became a turncoat and started hunting pirates. I used to like the man, now I can’t remember why.” She rested her chin on her fists. “Don’t trust him, big brother, I still think he tried to kill me to keep me from warning Eleanor.”

“And if he did, Cathy, he will pay for it, don’t worry, but I’m concerned for Eleanor, how many days ago did they..?”

“I don’t know,” she wailed, frustrated that he asked her again, “If you want to know, ask Max. I wasn’t there, I was fighting for my life. The first day I was up was the day I saw your ship in the harbor. My guess is that Hornigold knows, and is holed up in his fort, trying to repair it. Max and Ruby say I was unconscious for almost three days, the next day I woke and came to you. I didn’t know what had happened to Eleanor until they told me. And even if I was awake, if they hadn’t drugged me, what could I have done? You have a Spanish man o’war, isn’t she fast enough to catch up to her? “

“Maybe, the Spanish built good ships, but I don’t think we could catch her with the head start she has. Most likely Eleanor will be held in a military prison, I don’t suppose you think a band of pirates could penetrate a military prison?”

“No, and then there’s the gold, isn’t there? I don’t want to see that slip through your fingers. You need to find out where Rackham’s got it hidden. I think Max knows, she slipped and told me that she’s seen it. Rackham won’t do any favors for you or me, and definitely not Vane. Now that I’m back on my feel I’d like to a little reconnaissance to find out just where it might be. He’s either got it on his ship, or warehoused somewhere. Either way, if you don’t get to it soon, it will be gone for good.”

“I’m quite aware of that Cathy, you don’t need to remind me I’ve got two impossible tasks facing me. Now I’d like for you to stay on ship so I can keep an eye on you, I want to make sure you’re safe.”

“That’s not necessary, and I don’t care to deal with the men giving me the evil eye because I’m a woman on ship. I’ve got to keep an eye on my treasure now that Eleanor can no longer keep it safe for me. I have rooms here, and rooms at the Pearl. I’m good at eluding people, remember? If I’m back and forth enough, no one will know where to find me. I’m going to go find Charles, I’m tired and I want to go to bed,” she said with meaning.

“When are you going to get away from that bastard? Cathy, you know he doesn’t deserve you.” Flint wore his “I’m your brother, and I’m concerned for you” look.

“Someday, honestly Flint, I will leave him some day. I know he’s not good for me, but I can’t say that I’m unhappy with the time we spent together. I never had a Miranda Barlowe or a Thomas Hamilton, but I’ve enjoyed my scoundrels. But I’m growing up, and one day I will leave this all behind. I’ve never forgotten how Father wanted to marry me off so young, and so I’ve made sure that I enjoyed my freedom. No husband, no children, just a life I lead the way I want.”

Flint put his arms around her, holding her tightly, then released her. “In your own way, you’re as much of a pirate as me.” He smiled at the look she gave him, “All right, you’re a bit of a pirate. Just make sure Vane doesn’t beat you again, because this time I will kill him.”

The sea was as smooth as glass as Vane rowed them back to shore. It was quiet, peaceful. She looked up and saw the Southern Cross, the only place she ever saw it was here. She was almost resentful when Vane spoke, breaking the silence.

“I suppose Flint neglected to tell you that I saved his life?” He took another pull on the oars.

“You know very well he wouldn’t have told me unless I asked. Isn’t it enough that he knows?” She stared out over the water at the shadows of the ships. She could name every one she was familiar with, could now determine the brigantine, the sloops, the schooners, and who owned them. Nassau had become that ingrained in her.

Then she saw something, something vaguely familiar perhaps. She knew that ship, even in the dark, even though she had been patched and repaired to make her sea worth. She knew that ship, even in her dreams.

“Charles, look, can you see it. No,” she said as he looked the wrong way, “Starboard, starboard. See that ship, see her outlines? She’s been through some hard times, but what does she look like?” Then, as he looked at her blankly, “Row over there, I want a closer look.”

“Cathy, why? What is going on?”

“It’s the Walrus, you fool, the Walrus. Even in the shape she’s in I’d recognize her anywhere. She’s supposed to be sitting on the sands off the coast of Florida, but look, see how low she’s riding in the water? Fucking Jack Rackham repaired her and got her seaworthy enough to make the trip back to Nassau to haul gold. The damn ship is right under our noses, Max never intended to tell me because she knew I’d find out anyway. We’ve got to go tell Flint, turn the boat around.”

“Oh no, chances are the Walrus will still be here tomorrow. You need to get some rest.”

“Fine,” she said, and kicked off her shoes, “I’ll swim over to him, and you can take the damn boat back to shore.”

He grabbed hold of her dress, “I said ‘tomorrow’, Cathy, it can wait. And don’t sulk, you can talk to your brother tomorrow.”

She glared at him as he sat and rowed, but did not argue. “You’re damn right I’m talking to him tomorrow, first thing.” She settled back in the prow and folded her arms.   
So, it was going to be the gold first, and somehow, she didn’t really mind.


	26. What do You do With a Drunken Sailor"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Walrus has returned, moored not far from Rackham's new ship. Cathy is determined to find out just why she'd there, when she should be stranded on the sands of the beaches of the Florida coast. At witching hour (at midnight) Flint rows Cathy out to the Walrus, stopping just short of gun range. She swims the rest of the way, climbs one of the ropes left dangling, and tries to see who and what is on board a ship that was not fit to sail

Out of habit, Vane woke at first light. He propped himself up on one arm and watched Cathy sleep, listening to her quiet breathing, wondering how he had gotten so lucky as to get her back after coming so close to losing her.

She had lost some of that hollow-eyed look that she’d had, even though there were still violet shadows under her eyes. Her face was still gaunt, she had not yet re-gained the weight she had lost. The way she looked now didn’t suit her, her heart shaped face was normally full, not so thin as it was. Her breasts not so round and plump as they should be. At least she was looking better.

He was going to kill Hornigold the first chance he got.

She stirred and opened her eyes. She smiled and kissed him, then asked, “What time do you think it is?”

He got up, went to the window and peered out. “It’s after dawn, the sun is higher than I thought it would be. I suppose you’re going out to Flint’s ship now.”

“I wanted to go last night, if you recall. I hate giving him yet more bad news to start the day, but he’d better know. And I want to get on that ship tonight. I know it’s probably heavily guarded, but I think I can do it. I want to take a little home with me as a souvenir, and dangle it in Rackham’s face. He prides himself on being so clever, it’s time he learns to not overestimate himself.”

“You,” he pointed at her, “Don’t even think about trying to get on that ship.”

“Just how do you plan to stop me?” She was quiet for a moment. “You know, the Urca was found way too easily. Flint told me what Silver told him, about the one guard selling the information in exchange for a larger share. I don’t think Silver’s telling the whole truth. That man looks out for John Silver, first, then he considers the benefit of everyone else and tries to find a way to work it to his advantage. I suppose there’s nothing wrong with a scalawag being quartermaster to other scalawags, but I don’t like the thought of someone cheating my brother.”

“Especially if you stand to gain from it,” he grinned broadly.

“Of course, especially if I stand to gain from it. You can never be too rich, and I’d rather be filthy rich than just rich. And, something needs to be done about Rackham, now. That treasure won’t stay on that ship forever.”

“I suppose you want me to row you out to the Spaniard.”

“No, Charles, I want you to see if you can find out anything about Eleanor, and who tried to poison me. I think the two are tied together, otherwise, why bother with me. I have a small fortune, I don’t need the Urca money, and I was in no one’s way. Why was it so necessary to tro to kill me?”

He took her face in his hands and kissed her, “When, my love, I do find out, there is going to be hell to pay. Neither I, nor your brother, are taking this lightly. Flint is furious now over what happened to you, there will hell to pay when we catch the culprit who did this to you.”

She didn’t bother with breakfast, she simply got dressed and threw on a jacket, then went down to the waterfront and found someone to row her to her brother’s ship. It’s a good thing I’m here, she thought wryly, though they seem to have come to terms with each other, as long as I’m around and they are in my good graces, they won’t try to kill or cheat each other.

Vane needs to find a ship, he wants to go back to sea, but it’s hands off my brother’s ship or we’re through. I couldn’t believe he wanted to set himself up in the fort, he’s at his best when he’s at sea—he’s a pirate captain at heart, and he’s a good one.

She gave the Walrus one nervous look as they rowed her. We’ve got to get that ship back, she thought, not noticing that she was including herself in it. Damn Rackham, damn Silver, and damn Max if she had anything to do with it. Ruby Marie will find that out for me. She helps the girls get abortions, what good is a whore with a baby?

She threw some coins at the boatman. “Wait for me,” she said, “And there will be more coming.” He pulled the skiff up next to the Spaniard, and she called out, “Ahoy, one to come aboard.”

Once again it was Billy, dependable Billy, who greeted her, and threw down the ladder. 

“You’re looking better, Cathy,” he eyed her critically, “You’re starting to look like your old self. Flint’s in his quarters, he was expecting you for breakfast.” 

She kissed his cheek, and went to find her brother. She was familiar now with the ways of the Spaniard, she knew the little twists and turns of the corridors and stairs. It really was a beautiful ship, too bad it stood for so much that was painful. She grudgingly admired the Spanish Navy while despising them at the same time. She’d had no compunctions about stealing the Viceroy’s treasure, and had been full of glee when her efforts proved successful. She’d do it again, she thought, as long as she didn’t get caught.

She didn’t bother to knock, but entered his cabin and sat down. “Buenos dias, hermano,” she said mischievously.

“Shut up,” he said as he pushed a coffee pot over to her. “Why are you here?”

She got up and locked the door, then sat down again. “I want no one to hear us, especially John Silver.”

Flint lifted a curious eyebrow, “Why?”

“I think he was looking out for his own interests, as John Silver usually does. I was also thinking about how easily Rackham found the treasure, almost like he had help. I think some information trickled down to him, with help.”

“And you think Silver helped?”

“I think Silver told a little bird to tell Max, and sold the information to the highest, or to the most preferable bidder.”

“And you can prove this how?”

“I can’t, big brother, but I can tell you I think I know where the treasure is—it’s right under your nose. Rackham re-fitted the Walrus and she’s sitting low in the harbor, her holds probably close to bursting with gold.”

“You’re sure?” he asked becoming visibly agitated, his face starting to glow red, a sure sign that he was becoming angry, as well he might.

“I’d know the Walrus anywhere, awake or in my dreams. I’m rowing out to her tonight and getting on that ship. I’m a good swimmer, just like you, and I think they won’t notice someone coming through the water. If I didn’t know how to not be seen, I couldn’t have stolen the gold from Cuba. And if they do see me, I can dive into the water and they won’t be able to see me.

“Vane will never let you do this,” he warned.

“Vane has nothing to say about it,” she retorted, “He does not run my life, nor does he tell me what I can and cannot do. He’d like to think so, but he should know better. I own my life, not the man in my bed.”

“You would have given Peter Ashe a run for his money,” he mused.

“Either that, or he would have tried to beat me black and blue. Eventually I would have killed him and escaped from England anyway. I always wondered why he insisted on carrying out the marriage when he would be marrying the sister of his betrayer, so to speak.”

“Ever look in the mirror, Cathy?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Beauty is an accident, no more. It would have done me no good in the Spanish dungeons. Sometimes I wonder if that’s all Charles sees in me, does it even matter that I’m smart, and clever? Or am I the pretty doll he likes to play with?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he answered, “I am going to come with you, if they start shooting at you, I’d prefer to be there shooting back.”

“So, you’re not going to try to stop me?”

He shook his head, “No, despite the danger you’re putting yourself in, I think I prefer my smart, clever sister be the one to do this. Now, don’t try to get to the hold unless you’re sure you can get in and out. I’m more interested in knowing how many men are guarding her, and how close she is to Rackham’s ship. I’d rather steal her back than have to fight for her, we don’t need that in the harbor. Just find out how well she’s guarded, and then leave the rest to me.”

“What time?”

“Oh, around midnight, most of the pirates in town should be good and drunk by then. The only sober ones will be the ones guarding the ship. You know the Walrus, if it’s clear it shouldn’t be hard for you to do this, only be careful. Midnight, here then.”

She kissed his cheek. “Yes, I’ll be here, without fail. I want to get on that damn ship.”

 

The trick was avoiding Vane. He knew she intended to get on the Walrus, and he was determined to stop her. If she could avoid him, she could avoid a quarrel, the only problem was that Nassau was not big enough to enable her to prevent his encountering her.

She purchased a pair of black trousers that fit snug to her body, and a black shirt. Flint would choose a dark wooded dingy, one that would not easily be seen in the darkness. She’d tuck her braid behind her shirt and blacken her face so she could hide more easily in the shadows. After that, she must depend on luck and that was the one thing she could usually count on. Only Lady Luck could be fickle, how well she knew. 

Either way, no one could stop her, this was something that needed to be done, and she was the best person to do it. If she was able, she’d steal into the hold and maybe find some coins to shove in her pocket. The outcome, unfortunately, of all this was doubtful. The hold would be closely guarded, she was sure Rackham put the fear of god into the men he put on board. If he’d left just a few, the outcome might be favorable; if it was well guarded, the best she could do was count the men and relay the information to her brother.

If. If. If. “If ‘ifs’ and ‘ands’ were pots and pans, there’d be no work for tinkers,” she recited to herself.

She didn’t return to her rooms—Charles was there. He’d lit a candle hoping to lure her in. She could see his outline in the window, even from the street.

“Come on chile,” she heard Ruby say, “I keep you safe, your man won’t find you wif me.” Ruby hid her in the storeroom where she kept her candles and herbs. The black cats Ruby loved rubbed against her, purring, asking for a saucer of milk to supplement their diets of mice and rats. She fell asleep with them curled against her, and woke when Ruby shook her awake.

“I got my boy Tad here to row you out to ye brudder. He be a good boy, he get you dere without anyone noticing—just give him some coins and he be happy.” 

She walked her down to the docks, her bulky body providing protection. A young, gangly black youth took her hand and helped her into the boat, then began rowing out to where the Spaniard was moored, eerily still on the glass like sea. She handed him the coins, then a ladder suddenly dropped down, and she climbed up, looking into the face of her brother.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Cathy? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He searched her face, trying to decide if she wanted to go through with it.

“No, I don’t want to, not really, but it has to be done. Waiting will do no good. I expect him to move it any day, or at least move the gold. I’m going to have to find out if the hold is secured, if it is, we have our answer without me having to go in. If someone finds me, I can get off the ship quickly enough and swim back to the dingy. I can hold my breath well enough, and swim underwater. I’m not sure they’ll want to fire and alert anyone, but I think I can hide well enough from them.”

Though just a schooner, the Walrus seemed to loom large as they rowed towards her. Cathy would swim to her, and climb one of the ropes the men had conveniently left dangling over the side. 

Flint brought the little skiff to a halt. Cathy tucked her hair under her shirt as Flint blackened her face. 

“Ready?” he asked and she nodded, then slipped over the side of the boat and disappeared beneath the surface. 

He dropped the anchor quietly over the side, positioning himself so he could see as much of the Walrus’ deck as possible. He could make out two shapes, the muskets they held in their hand showing as shadows against the night. He said a quiet prayer for his sister and prayed she would not be careless, no matter how eager she might be. Cathy was not careless, but she might forget caution if she got carried away.

Cathy swam under the water, surfacing only to take a breath and get her bearings. Now, with her head out of the water, she could see the ropes dangling over the Walrus’s side. Cautiously she slipped under again, seeing the huge bulk of the hull and the keel. Good, she thought, I’m close enough.

She came up again, but could not see anything, the ship’s hull blocked her view, but she grasped a rope and began to climb, hoping that she would not be seen. She was grateful for the time she’d spent in the rigging, she could climb like a monkey, her strength built up by the time she’d spent with Flint at sea.

She wished there were a window or a port hole to rest herself on, but using one last, great effort she brought herself to the side and peered over the edge.

No one was there—that could be either good or bad. They might be guarding the door to the hold, or below decks drinking. She was not so lucky, she knew, that no one would be on deck. She pulled herself up and over the side, landing silently on bare feet.

Hearing voices, she ran quickly to the main mast and pressed herself against it. She could hear voices, maybe two, but she hesitated, knowing that there might be at least a few more on board. She knew where the door was that led to the hold, but until they moved away, she dared not attempt anything.

The men were quarreling, no doubt upset that they had been left on watch. They ought to be careful, she thought, for anyone who knew what the Walrus carried could board and make off with the contents of the hold before the sun came up. There was a splash, no doubt a rum bottle being thrown over the side—which meant they were on the opposite side of the ship from here.

She ventured from behind the mast, staying close in case she needed to hide again. The hatch was temptingly out of reach, and she hesitated. There was a reason Flint told her to be careful. She drew out the knife she’d hidden in her shirt, at least if they tried to take her, she could inflict damage, serious damage if she was lucky, and if Flint heard her scream, well he was a fairly good shot.

Waiting was the hard part. One of the men began to sing a song she’d heard before:

“What do you do with a drunken sailor  
What do you do with a drunken sailor  
What do you do with a drunken sailor,   
Er-lye in the morning?

Put him in a rowboat till he’s sober  
Put him in a rowboat till he’s sober  
Put him in a rowboat till he’s sober,  
Er-lye in the morning.”

He had a good voice and she’d almost forgotten to pay attention, when she saw a man coming up the stairs, no doubt from her brother’s old cabin. He joined the others, drinking out of another rum bottle, and blocking any attempt she might make to get to the hatch way.

She went over to the side, peparing ready to dive. She could just make out Flint gesturing wildly to her and she climbed on the rail, and dove gracefully over the side, coming up halfway between the ship and the dingy.

A voice called out, “Hey,” and she could hear Flint call her name. She began to swim, knowing they’d have trouble seeing her in the dark. Still, a shot from a gun rang out and she dove beneath the surface, breaking out only when she was sure the dingy was close. 

Another shot sounded, but from a different gun. Flint was giving her cover until she could reach his boat. When she reached him, he put out his arm and pulled her up, growling, “I should never have let you do this.”

Breathing heavily, she answered, “Don’t you mean you never should have offered to help, I would have done it alone anyway. Row this damn dingy back to shore as fast as you can. They’ve been drinking, and I don’t think their aim is too good, but let’s not take chances.”

“How many on board?” he asked as he rowed. The bullets flew around them, but were few. It would prove too much trouble and they’d go back to their rum.

“I saw three, that might be all he left. I couldn’t get to the hatch to get down into the hold, I didn’t dare. It’s the Walrus, though, looking beat up but they got her ship shape enough for sailing home. I don’t know if Rackham is going to move her now, or add more men on watch. With enough men, you could take that ship back, and retrieve your gold.”

“Can I spend the night on your ship, big brother? I bet Vane’s been looking for me, and there’ll be hell to pay when he hears what I’ve done. And I could use a drink, a really big one. I have never enjoyed being fired at, thank god for pirates with bad aim!”


	27. To Reclaim a Treasure Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cathy has narrowly escaped her adventure aboard the Walrus. The next day she goes to the brothel to bathe and have her hair washed, only this time it is Idelle, for Max has no time. Idelle asks her if she's in love with Vane and Cathy replies that Idelle is better suited to Vane than she is. After her bath, she goes to the market to eat and reflects on the changes she's seen, especially the unlikely relationship between Max and Anne. She's coming to the realization that she is tired of pirates, but the two men she loves most, Vane and her brother, are not likely to quit piracy. Vane finds her and they start to talk, and she confronts him about Richard Guthrie. She tells Vane the truth, there was no reason to hold Abigail Ashe in the dungeon, and she would most likely do what Eleanor did, but for the sake of Abigail who did not deserve her fate. Vane relents and tells her he regretted killing Guthrie. She answers that she loves him, but for a while she needs some space from him.

Flint’s cabin aboard ship was a welcome haven. She stripped off her wet clothes and wrapped herself in the blanket he had thoughtfully provided.   
There was a knock at the door, “Is it all right to come in?” asked her brother.

“Yes, it’s all right.” He came in and she settled back in the hammock he had strung up for her. She gratefully accepted the mug of rum he offered her, taking a sip of the fiery liquid. “Ah,” she smiled, “The good stuff.”

She drank in silence, then asked him, “Flint, did you hear about Rackham and Vane coming to a truce?”

“Yes, I believe I heard about that, it helped Rackham get a ship and a crew. Why?”

“Well, I’m wondering if they’re working together. And after that after the little surprise I gave them tonight, they might think about moving the gold. They couldn’t leave it on ship forever, it wouldn’t be safe. If a storm suddenly blew up, the Walrus would sink to the bottom of the bay, and what would happen to all that lovely gold?”

“I’ve been thinking. What if Vane and our Calico Jack had more than just a show of good will going on? If they needed a place to store the gold, what would be better than the dungeons of the fort? The treasure will be vulnerable while they’re moving it, but after that it would take someone who knew the fort well to find it. I could maybe do it, but I’m not sure that I’m trusted anymore. And I think our little madam would be in on this, too. Personally, I’d like to hang her upside down and shake her until she spills her secrets out.”

“So Max is now the keeper of knowledge? I didn’t know the girl had it in her.” Flint removed his coat and his boots. “I never looked on her as anything more than Eleanor’s pet.”

“One time, that may have been what she was, but you know whores, the smart ones are always scheming. Some are outright thieves, others are just plain stupid. I certainly don’t have it in me to try the life. I’d rather be a thief, I’m good at that.” Cathy drained her mug and set it on the floor. “I’m going to the brothel to have a bath and wash my hair in the morning, I’ll see if I can find out anything.”

“There’s one thing you might see about, Cathy. Billy said the fleet is gathered on Harbor Island. There might be a new governor coming, and someone must know who it is. It’s too bad you don’t have any contacts there.”

“What about you, brother, don’t you have a spy network anymore? I never made any contacts with the British Navy because I was afraid that would bring them too close to you. It would be handy, however, it might possibly be a means of finding out what happened to our Eleanor. She’s smart, maybe she’d be able to talk her way out of a death sentence. If that’s the case, Hornigold should look to his own neck, and I’ll wager Vane will not be too safe, either. “He should not have killed Richard Guthrie, that was petty, mindless revenge. If she finds a way, I’m sure she’s going to make him pay, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he would up in that noose I’ve always predicted was waiting for him.”

“Cathy, this can wait until tomorrow, I’m going to sleep.”

She was silent for a moment. “Well, how is Charles going to handle me, while being in possession of the gold. I’m your sister, but supposedly we are back on good terms.   
Rackham and I aren’t, and never will be. I know Vane’s men, and while they never liked Eleanor, they do like me. I’m your sister, he had the gold…”

“Shut up, Cathy, I want to sleep. This can wait until tomorrow. Good night.”

She mumbled something into her cushions, but bothered him no more for the rest of the night. When she finally woke, she could tell the sun was high in the sky. “How long did I sleep?” she wondered.

Flint came in, carrying a mug of coffee. He handed it to her, saying, “I always miss this when I’m away. There’s nothing like coffee to wake you in the morning.”  
She took a deep drink, savoring the bitter flavor. “What time is it?”

“Oh, past six bells. You might want to make your way to the brothel. Someone will be there to make arrangements for your bath. Max might be up, or not, if not you can try to find her later. And after you’ve bathed and primped, you might try to see what’s going on at the fort.”

“You forget, dear brother, that could involve confronting Charles Vane. He was adamant that I should not go out to the ship and see what was going on. You will be able to take the gold back, won’t you? And you should settle matters with Silver. He’s a natural born liar, but make him admit what he knows, and that’s one step towards reclaiming what’s yours.”

“You’re sure about this now? You’re not sure you’re wrong?”

“I had a little bird tell me. Max doesn’t know that I went looking for Anne Bonny to see what she knew, when I happened to see Silver go into Max’s room. After that, it was easy. I just listened and made sure I was not seen. The doors to her room are not sound proof, and I heard every word. The only thing I happen to be worried about now is the British. I don’t know when they’re coming, but according to Billy they’re on the way. It’s a good thing I’m not wanted, and Eleanor has no grudge against me. I can keep my secrets.”

Cathy grabbed her still damp clothes and put them on. “Row me to shore, big brother? I’ll go to the brothel and scatter coin about and see if I can catch anything. I want to get the salt washed out of my hair and comb it out. I can have a look see and maybe I can find someone who wants to talk. I’m also going to summon up the courage to go to the fort. After Charles is done scolding me for disobeying him, maybe I’ll ask him outright if he’s going to hide the gold. He may feel honor bound to tell me something, or not. If I don’t give it a try I will never know.”

 

“Remember, be careful,” he warned her when they reached the dock. “Under the spell of gold, no man is safe and no man or woman is trustworthy. And you might try to find out just what my new quartermaster has been up to. I intend to take back that gold, Cathy, but not at the expense of your safety. If I ask you to leave the islands, please be prepared to do so. Vane may love you…” he held up his hand as she started to protest, “Cathy, honestly, I believe that he does, but that’s no guarantee of your safety. He can and would hold you hostage if he thought that would keep me from attempting to retrieve the gold. I just want you to be careful.”

“This from the man who almost got himself, and Charles, hung. Never fear, big brother, I don’t want to be in the middle of all this. Just remember, if you succeed, I want a share of that gold.” She clambered out of the boat and started up the hill. 

For all the years she had spent here, Nassau never ceased to amaze her. Already there were customers gathering for the brothel, taking advantage of the cooler air of the morning. She could see Idelle talking to another whore, and damned it that wasn’t Anne Bonny, she thought. This might be a good time after all.

She ran up the stairs to her rooms, fetching a clean dress and her shawl. After her bath she’d go talk to Ruby, and see if there had been any rumors about Rackham, the fort, or Charles whispering about.

Charles was something she had to avoid, and she crossed her fingers, hoping that he was fast asleep, hopefully until high noon. Yes Charles, she thought, I’ve disobeyed you again, but I don’t recall ever saying I would. You think you’d be used to that by now.

She walked into the brothel, noticing only a few customers about. Good. Max gave her a hurried kiss and said Idelle would take care of her, then she disappeared into her room. Very curious, Max, she thought. You’re usually nosy as all hell, wanting to know what I’m up to. Does that mean no one knows it was me who was on the Walrus last night? That’s convenient.

“Come on,” said Idelle, motioning her to the back room where she usually bathed. Idelle was a curious one, full figured, almost plump, with impossibly large breasts. She was very popular in the brothel, her breasts well appreciated by certain customers. 

Idelle had also lived with Charles for a short time. Idelle was far more suited to Charles, It made Cathy wonder just why Charles had taken up with Eleanor and her, when they were obviously so unsuitable for him. Some men had an attraction for women better than them, so far above them that it was cause him to resent her. But it had been she, then Eleanor in turn, who had grown tired of Charles Vane, but each returned to him. Cathy still could not understand it.

“I said, is the water too hot?” Idelle was asking her a question, and she had been so lost in thought she had not heard. Idelle helped peel off the still damp clothes that stuck to her, and Cathy sank gratefully into the bath.

Even with the help of coconut oil, Idelle was having untangling her long hair. “I can cut some off,” Idelle said doubtfully, thinking Cathy would be crazy to cut the long hair that fell to her hips. 

“Do it,” said Cathy, “Cut it off just above my waist. It gets in my way sometimes, and it would be nice to not have it so long. Besides, it will piss Charles off.”

“Do you and Charles still, well, see each other?” she asked as she carefully cut at Cathy’s long locks. “It seems like it’s you, then it’s Eleanor, then it’s hard to keep track of which one of you he’s seeing.”

Do you care for him, Idelle, Cathy thought, then answered, “For Charles, Eleanor and I are old habit. I don’t think I love him, not anymore. I did, once, but I know he’s not the right person for me. Flint is always saying that, and it’s nothing I don’t know. If the British really do come here, I plan on going back to France before they have a chance to find me—if they’re looking for me, that is. I met someone in Paris, once, and sometimes I wonder what he’d doing, if he’s married. I think that if the king of France offered him a pardon, he’d take it.”

“Why do you think that?” Idelle started to gather up the red clipping on the floor, but Cathy held out her hand.

She wrapped the hair in her shirt. “Because he’s too fond of life. “He comes from a good family, he’s educated. He was one of the king’s privateers, but they’ve served their purpose and have no use now. With his family connections and his skill as a seaman, he can get a commission in France’s navy. He’s smart, he will know when it’s time to let go.”

“Unlike Charles?” Idelle laced Cathy into her pink gown.

“Unlike Charles. Charles is an excellent seaman, an excellent captain. All he need to do for now is get on a ship and get back to sea. He’s gotten too lazy, hanging out at the fort. I like Charles better when he actually has to work.” She dropped some coins into Idelle’s hand, “Thank you for your help. It’s too bad you couldn’t keep Charles’ interest, I think you suit him far better than Eleanor or I do. Good day to you then.”

 

It was still early, how early she hadn’t realized. Some of the vendors were filtering slowly into the market and setting up their booths. She wished she could talk to Ruby Marie, but the old Obeah woman would probably have been up late, and still sleeping as a result. 

“No one begins they day wanting to know their fate,” she had once told Cathy, “I’m old and I’m alone and I need my rest. No one ever takes my place at the market, no one is good enough at what she does as Ruby Marie. If I don’t tell ye where I live, don’t take it personal, I just like to be left alone until I’m ready. I’ll always be here for ye, dear child, you just got to give old Ruby her space.”

Cathy looked out at the harbor, watching the Walrus bob up and down on her anchor. She was angrier than usual at Jack Rackham, but strangely she’d started feeling sorry for Anne Bonny without really knowing why.

Anne was an odd duck. When she first came to Nassau, Anne and Rackham were as tight as two peas in a pod, almost inseparable. A few times she had stumbled upon them, fucking like rabbits in whatever hiding place they could find. There seemed to be no one but Jack for Anne, and likewise Anne for Jack. They were a notorious pair around town, but always a pair none the less.

Now things were strange. Cathy was in and out of the brothel, sometimes to bathe, sometimes to gather gossip from Max. Events had taken a strange turn. Max and Anne seemed tight, and she wondered if Rackham was still in the picture. Max seemed to have commandeered Anne, which made Cathy wonder. She knew of Max’s sexual proclivities, but Anne Bonny? It had been enough of a surprise to find Max with Eleanor, but Anne Bonny?

“Not bloody likely,” she said aloud, but that seemed to be the case. If that were the truth then, poor Jack.

She went to the small café and ordered breakfast and coffee. While she sat and sipped her espresso, she wondered whose hands the fort would stay in. It didn’t seem to be a settled matter, it was as likely one day to be Hornigold, then Vane would make a move and claim it again. It would make a good place to store a lot of treasure, making her wonder if Hornigold and Vane could come to an agreement. 

Had Vane been angry at the turning over of Eleanor by Hornigold, she wondered. Or was he so angry at the loss of his valuable captive, and the money she might have brought, that his anger at Eleanor would open him to a compromise? 

“I’m getting sick and tired of pirates,” she said out loud, then someone answered:

“Then why do you have one for a lover?” Vane sat down and flagged the waiter and ordered a coffee for himself.

“I have one for a brother, too, in case you forgot. I love him, he looks after me, but he has at last learned to not try and smother me. The two of you are equally bad at trying to tell me not to do something when you know good and well when I’ve made up my mind you don’t try to stop me.”

“Ah, yes. Like sneaking onto the Walrus last night when I told you not to. Did you find out anything useful?”

“Yes, I find it very strange that someone is guarding a patched up old derelict so closely. They took a shot at me when I dove off the rail.”

“Which serves you right.” The waiter set down his coffee, and he picked up and took a sip. “Too hot,” he complained.

“So, Charles, are you going to tell me whether or not you and Rackham are partners? I know he’s taken possession of my brother’s gold.”

“The Urca’s gold, you mean,” he corrected.

“No, my brother’s gold, he’s the one who paid the heaviest price. I have a feeling that Silver has loose lips and him and little Max set up what they thought was a sweet deal. Flint won’t stand for it for long. My brother’s no coward and he won’t back down from a fight, and he’ll fight for that gold, believe me.”

Vane said nothing, so, I’m on track, she thought. “Charles, I want to ask you something.” He looked at her as if trying to guess what it would be.

She took a breath, “Why did you kill Richard Guthrie?”

“Collateral damage.” His response did not satisfy her.

She slapped her hand down on the table. “That’s not good enough. Did it ever occur to you that you were holding an innocent girl in that damned dungeon, who had done nothing wrong in her life? She’s a human being, Charles, she didn’t deserve that. What the hell is wrong with you that made you think it was right? So Eleanor got her out, so what? Does it occur to you that I would have done the same thing—not for my brother, but for her sake? And good luck thinking you could get even with me by killing Flint, you’d just as likely end up dead instead.”

“So you’d do that to me, too?” Charles had a look on his face that she knew too well, but she was too far gone to stop.

“Hell yes, hell yes. But get it through that thick skull of yours that I wouldn’t be doing it to you, I’d be doing it for her. I hate kidnappers, I hate anyone being held for ransom. I especially hate it when kidnappers kill their victims because they didn’t get their money.”

“There are so many ways you could have gotten even with Eleanor, why did you have to pick someone so vital to the commerce of the island. You pirates and your wanting that one big score so you don’t have to work again…”

“And what about your Cuban haul Cathy, seems you’re set for life, if I’m not mistaken.”

“And it was the most stupid thing I’ve ever done in my life, and three people paid for it with their lives. I had to work for that, in case you’ve forgotten. No one just handed it to me. I wish you’d get your ass back onto a ship—at least you have to work at being a captain, and you’re a good one. The worst thing that ever happened to you was getting that fort.” She got up and made ready to leave, but he grabbed hold of her wrist.

“When I cooled off, I regretted Richard Guthrie. Eleanor and I are intent on destroying each other, and it’s too late to stop it. You bring out the best in me, she brings out the worst. I know I can’t hold onto you, Cathy, I know it, but for what it’s worth, I love you.”

“Please let go, Charles. And for better or worse, there is a part of me that will always love you. Just, please help Flint, there’ll be a share for you. You know how I feel about my brother, how protective we are of each other. I just want what’s right, that’s all. But for now, I need some space between us.”

He kissed her hand, and let go of it. He watched as she walked away, knowing that someday, she’d be gone for good.


	28. Nassau Takes a Governor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nassau has a new governor and Cathy has met him first. While Woods Rogers, newly appointed by the Crown to bring order to the chaos that is Nassau, meets Cathy while she's riding on the beach early in the morning. He tells her who her is and why he's come, but Cathy is more coy, giving him the name "McGraw" as opposed to "Flint" the name she has used for many years, the same name used by her brother.
> 
> She leaves Rogers after promising to meet him on the morrow, and rides back to town to let Max and her brother of the new arrival to Nassau. The news will be good to neither of them--both hope to retrieve the Urca gold, and now the time is short if there is any. And Cathy has no news of Eleanor, nor has she asked. This is a game she will play slowly, for if she does seduce Rogers, as her brother suggested, she must decide who she plays the game for.

Barely six in the morning and he was already sweating. Woods Rogers was poised on his horse at the top of the dune, waiting to ride down and have a gallop along a deserted stretch of beach, the coolest he would be all day. The sky was white, a sure sign that today would be another unpleasantly hot one; even the time he had spent in the South Seas had not made him immune to the effects of heat. Boils, prickly heat, tropical fevers were all the prices he was willing to pay for his ambitious.

And Rogers was a man on his way up. He had been given the task of cleaning up a lawless island, and bringing the freebooters to heel. If he could do this, maybe the long coveted title he had been seeking for so long would be his. Lord knows he’d paid for it. The separation from his wife after the death of their last son had almost brought him down, but only almost. His wife would never have consented to a move to Nassau, so be it. He was still young, he was ambitious, he was a man on the rise, and Nassau would be his means of achieving it.

He was just about to urge his horse down the dune when he saw a woman on a white mare charge her horse down a small rise and gallop into the surf. The horse fought it, but she brought her into the water and they galloped through the surf, water splashing around them. It was a pretty sight, the woman, whoever she was, expertly handled the reluctant horse. Her red hair was tied back with a ribbon, and the light brown skirts, now wet from their exertions, clung prettily to her legs—and nice legs they were, he thought.  
He rode down, startling her horse, but she held her in check. “Good morning,” he called to her, “I thought I might have this beach to myself, but I see I was mistaken.”

She was startled at first, then gave him a dazzling smile. “I am sorry, I count on this beach being deserted myself, especially since my horse is not used to being ridden in the surf. I just purchased her, she doesn’t mind the heat, but the humidity and water still bother her, she’ll get used to it.”

Rogers cast an admiring eye on the mare. “Very nice. Arabian, is she? She has a beautiful head and her ears turn in perfectly. I’ve only seen a few, but none so fine as this. Did you purchase her locally?”

She laughed, “No. No one on this island breeds horses like this. I had an agent purchase her for me in Constantinople—technically, she’s a Turk. I have a mare that I am going to have bred to a stallion in England. People are starting to discover Arabians. They’re small, but very fast, have very fiery tempers, and as you can see, are absolutely beautiful. I’d like to have a small broodmare band, and a stud, and raise them, though not here. Italy, maybe, or France.”

“Spain produces some very nice horses, descended from the Moors, I believe.”

“But Spain does not suit me, I’m afraid. I’m sorry, but I must be going,” her horse pinned her ears back and snapped at his gelding who had strayed too close.” Both of them laughed at the temperamental display. “I must get her back, let her calm down.”

“Wait,” he called, “Before you leave, would you possibly be riding this way tomorrow?”

He was rewarded with a smile. “I could,” she said archly, “Is it possible that I may find myself with company?”

He took the hand that rested on her knee. “If you permit,” he said, and kissed it. He was not too handsome, not too plain, and Woods Rogers was appealing to ladies and knew it. “Woods Rogers at your service, Miss…”

“McGraw, Cathy McGraw. But please, call me Cathy,” she dimpled, “Miss seems so, formal, and here on the island we are very relaxed. And what are you doing here, Mr. Rogers? You’re a long way from England.”

“I’ve been appointed governor of the island. His Majesty’s government would like to see order brought to Nassau.”

“Well, good luck to you then, I’m afraid you’re going to need it. Lawless and disorderly seems to suit Nassau quite well. Tomorrow then—perhaps.” He caught one last glimpse of her lovely face as she turned her horse and around and galloped off.

Blimey, he thought to himself, how often do you run into a woman like that? He decided to exchange his aborted ride for a long bath and breakfast. Tomorrow he would not let her get away so quickly. He must ask Eleanor Guthrie if she knew this most enchanting creature he had found. 

Eleanor Guthrie. A must shrewd young woman, and ambitious. She’d saved herself from the gallows by accepting a pardon contingent up offering cooperation and information—specifically names of known criminals Several well-known and wanted pirates used Nassau as their base. And Eleanor Guthrie had been the center of commerce and trade since her father was assassinated, and though His Majesty’s government wanted trade with the pirates to cease and desist, Eleanor Guthrie was the means by which an obviously profitable flow of goods could be continued.

Besides, it would have been a shame to let the cool blond beauty meet her end on the gallows.

Cathy rode Hadba back into town at a fast gallop. She threw the reins at a groom, threatening his life if her mare was not cooled properly, then ran up to the brothel, pushing girls out of her way.

“MAX! God damn it, where are you? Idelle, someone, where is she? I need to talk to her now!”

Max emerged from her room, “What is wrong with you, why all this commotion? I have only just now begun to drink my coffee,” knowing full well that what Cathy probably carried important news.

Cathy seated herself at a table. “Idelle, bring me some coffee. Max, sit, you are going to want to hear this.” She crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward, “I have just met the newly appointed governor of Nassau.”

Max drew herself upright. “What?”

“Woods Rogers. Not handsome but attractive. Late thirties, early forties, brown hair. Just appointed governor of Nassau by the Crown. I know nothing more about him than I think he wants to fuck me.” Cathy leaned back, letting her words sink in, “I met him this morning while I was riding Hadba. He’s invited me to ride tomorrow, and I think I’ll accept his invitation.” She took a sip of the coffee Idelle had set in front of her. 

The Creole madame tapped her fingertips on the table, “I don’t know anything about him, I knew this was coming, but I must admit I was not prepared for this to happen so soon.”

“I can find out a few things, but not the sort that will do you any good. One thing I was wondering, though, where is our fair Miss Guthrie? If she had a date to meet with the gallows, I’m sure we would have heard of it by now. I’m sorry, Max, I know your differences, but I have no quarrel with Eleanor. Charles knows how I feel, so he stays out of it. Like it or not, I think that Nassau’s fortunes are tied up with Eleanor’s. Changes are coming that won’t affect me, but nothing on this island is going to be the same.”

 

She went down the docks and scanned the harbor. Flint might still be on board, she thought, and he’s going to want to hear this. Men with skiffs for hire sat around idly, waiting for the first customer of the day. Cathy chose the one nearest to her, and dropped some coins into his boat. “Row me out to the Spaniard, and there’ll be more for you if you wait to row me back.”

He scooped up the coins and gestured her into his boat. She took inventory of the ships as she always did. There were fewer now than there were in the old days, and she wondered where the pirate captains were taking their goods to be sold. Eleanor had made a good living as a smuggler, and if she had the sense to be less of an autocrat, she might still. Or, could have continued until the Crown arrived. Had it been here, she would have worked with her partners, not tried to control them. Richard Guthrie could have kept her in line, but…

Why the nostalgia over him? She hadn’t even liked the man, but she didn’t care for what Charles had done. I would have talked him out of it, well, I would have tried. I’m getting sick of all this, I love Nassau but the pirate politicking wearies me. No one will be king, dilly dilly.* Charles has a temper, Eleanor has a temper, my brother has a temper—I’m better at keeping a cool head than all of them. I have no stake in all of this, except where helping my brother comes into play. And speaking of which, there’s the Spaniard.

Someone she didn’t know was at the rail, but all of them were familiar with the captain’s red-haired sister. She gave a grateful smile to the man who helped her on board, and found her way to Flint’s cabin.

He was not alone. Billy Bones was there, which she didn’t mind, but she was dismayed to see Silver sitting and drinking coffee with them. Damn, she swore silently, but nothing could be done about it. She grabbed a cup for herself and poured coffee out of the carafe, the aroma teasing her nostrils, something tea could never do.

She took the seat across from Flint. “Well, brother,” she said, “I have news that will tickle your ears.” Her green eyes stared into his blue ones, waiting for his response.

“All right, Cathy, out with it.” Was he irritated, or fearful of what she had to tell him?

“I just met the new governor of Nassau, one Woods Rogers by name.”

“Oh? How?”

“Riding on the beach this morning while I was breaking in my new mare. He invited me to ride with him tomorrow. I accepted.” She sat back while she let this sink in.

“Does he know who you are, Cathy? Is there any word of Eleanor?” There was an edge to his voice that let her know she had caught him by surprise. One of them would sure have found out eventually, this time she was the bearer of bad tidings.

“I used the name ‘McGraw’ which should draw much less attention. Had I said ‘Cathy Flint’ that might have sounded an alarm, except, of course, that I’m not wanted by the English. And since it looks like we’re going to war with Spain again for the control of the new world, I don’t think I have to worry about my Spanish friends. And no, I didn’t ask about Eleanor, I’m not sure I want that connection out in the open just yet. Right now I’m just a pretty girl he met while riding on the beach. That’s plenty sufficient.’

“Well, do you plan on seducing him?” That’s just like you, my brother, straight and to the point. “We need information in order to know how to proceed.”

You mean you need information so you can decide whether or not you should make plans to take back the Urca treasure. That’s what I’d be doing, only you can’t say anything with Silver sitting here. Have you told Billy Bones? He might care, he might not. He, at least, is loyal to his brothers, unlike that snake Silver. And, I’m ashamed to say, I’d like to have Silver’s snake in my bed with me one more time. I’d like my pretty Billy, too, but I’m not a whore at heart, and I have a feeling Vane will come searching for me. Ah, so many men, and I mustn’t let any of them know they share my bed.

“Are you asking me to? I don’t know if I’d mind or not. He’s not bad looking, rides well, and I could use a mutual love of horses to hook his interest, if I have to. I know the look he was giving me, know it well, and I don’t think it would be too hard to entice him into my bed. The trick will be obtaining the information you want so badly. I know nothing about him, so I don’t know how closely he holds his cards to his chest. I don’t know how much time you have, but be patient and I might be able to find out what you want to know. I don’t want our connection known, but if Eleanor finds out he met me, it could be all for naught.”

She put down her cup, and kissed her brother’s cheek. Out of old habit, a thing done so many times neither could remember, he pulled her head down and kissed her on her red locks. “Be careful little sister,” he said, and let her go.

 

* From the traditional English folk song “Lavendar’s Blue”  
“Lavendar’s blue, dilly dilly, Lavendar’s green  
When you’re a king, dilly dilly, I’ll be your queen”


	29. A Shift in Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cathy accepts Woods Rogers invitation to ride and learns that he has discovered who she really is, thanks to Eleanor Guthrie who has been given a pardon. She does not know, though, if Eleanor has become Rogers lover, she only knows his interest in her is very obvious. She refuses an invitation to breakfast and goes to see Flint. She does not know if he will be offered a pardon and if he will be willing to accept it. His grief over Miranda is very new and raw. Vane, she knows, will not accept. Charles is full of too much pride and will probably condemn himself.

Have I made a mistake? thought Cathy as she waited for Woods Rogers to meet her. Naya must have sensed her nervousness, for she began to skitter around on the sand, wanting to be off and galloping in the cool morning air.

I do not think he knows who I am, but does he know more than I think? And does it make any difference? I know what my brother is, but not what he chooses to do. The only time I did was when he planned to capture the “Urca”, and I had no part in that. The Cuban government seemed to know who I was, but I was not Cathy Flint when I robbed the governor, not did any piece of paper exist that contained that name. Besides, we are once more the enemies of Spain, and committing a crime against your enemy has never been a crime.

She was about to start galloping Naya when he came down the dunes on his elegant bay hunter. He cut a dashing figure on his horse, she had to admit, and he was more handsome than she first thought him. God help me, I am ready for a new lover, she thought, but I don’t know if I want it to be this man. Too risky perhaps?

“Good morning, Miss Flint!” Well, perhaps it was, how had he found out her name? Was Eleanor here, had she escaped the gallows? That would be good news, but it would take a while before she was completely at ease in his company.

“So, Mr. Rogers, you have found me out!” she said gaily. No doubt he found out by someone who knows me, shall I play a guessing game to figure out who?” Thank god she was a natural flirt, she would hide behind coquetry if she must.

“Eleanor Guthrie sends you her best wishes, and hopes that the two of you will soon be reunited. She spoke highly of you.” He had a half smile on his face, maybe he expected her to provide details Eleanor had not?

“What exactly, sir, has Eleanor told you about me?” She would do the fishing, she decided and he would provide her the answers, not the other way around. Learning about Eleanor had been a surprise, a pleasant one, but very unexpected. She needed to find out what he knew about her, and if there were any unknown threats of which she should be aware.

“You’re the sister of James Flint, one of the most notorious pirates in the West Indies, but you are not involved in his activities. He brought you to the islands so that you could avoid a marriage your parents had arranged, though I don’t know why you would have wanted to. Marrying Lord Peter Ashe would have been very advantageous, it would have brought you wealth, position and property.”

“And I would have married the man who disgraced my brother, forcing him to flee England. He lost everything, his commission, his friends, his chance to advance. He had a promising career ahead of him.”

She lowered her voice, “I blame Thomas Hamilton most of all—he seduced my brother, ruined him. Everyone blamed my brother, thanks to Lord Alfred Hamilton. And Peter Ashe, he was in collusion with my good lord. I wonder that Lord Ashe still sought to marry me, but he did; and why my parents pushed for the match is beyond my understanding. Their son, their son who showed so much promise…” Her voice trailed off.

He had not heard this version, but he knew he was hearing the truth, the truth so few knew. “It must have been hard for you,” he said softly, “You are lucky to have a brother who loves you very much.”

“Even if he is one of the most the most wanted pirates in the Caribbean? I must be honest, Mr. Rogers, I fear for his safety. And in spite of his short comings, I love him, and he loves me. I do not excuse what he is, but I accept him. He has always taken care of me, looked out for me, no sister could ask for a better brother. This puts me in a delicate position, but he does not tell me what he does. I am no smuggler, no pirate queen, I am just plain Cathy.”

“I understand,” he told her, “I did not mean to upset you. Come let us have that ride we planned, I would like to see you put your Arabian through her paces.”

Galloping her horse soothed her somewhat, but she was not reassured by his kind manner. She was glad Eleanor was all right, she could guess at what might be happening to Nassau in the future, but without actually knowing his intentions, she feared for the safety of Flint, perhaps of Charles, but her brother most of all. She hoped a pardon for those pirates willing to accept it would be in the offing. Charles would not accept it, would never accept it. He’d rather put his head in a noose than swallow his pride. So be it.

But Flint, what would he do? He was angry over Miranda, and well he should be. That was a murder, nothing less. And to display her body? If she harbored any doubts at all over refusing to marry Peter Ashe, they were long gone. If she had been bolder she would have asked the new governor what was going to happen to her brother, and his property, but caution had always served her well. If she could talk to Eleanor, maybe she could fill in the details for her, but even that was not a certainty. The only thing certain was Flint’s anger, and she shared it.

If she could successfully secure him a pardon, would he accept it? Was his wrath too great, and only vengeance on his mind instead? These were the things that split families, she thought, and short of joining him on the scaffold, she would not risk losing him.

Rogers had kissed her hand again when he left her. She could read how he felt in his eyes. Should she take him into her bed now, or should she wait? 

“Are you going to seduce him?” Flint had asked. She had the feeling that perhaps he wanted her to. She was going to talk to him, seek his advice. Perhaps if he advised her to, she would. The only roadblock was not knowing his status with Eleanor—had he took her to his bed?

She and Eleanor were in no way alike. She had more knowledge of men than her, in spite of the fact that Eleanor had been Charles’ mistress, too. Physically, mentally, they were nothing alike. Eleanor did not have, nor had she sought, Cathy’s education or sophistication. But Eleanor was blond, with dark blue eyes and creamy skin, many men were attracted to blonds and Eleanor was nothing less than lovely.

But she knew that if Woods Rogers desired a different type of woman, he would choose her. She’d cut off the bulk of her red hair, but it still hung to her waist. She was taller than Eleanor, more slender, but her breasts fuller, more womanly. There were many women in Nassau, but she was considered among the leading beauties. Eleanor had tended to put men off, probably a good thing, but Cathy drew them in and did not feel the need to chase them away. If she and Eleanor competed for Rogers’ attention, it was hard to say who would win.

And he just might decide, as Charles had, that he wanted them both. What had she heard about Woods? He and his wife had separated, so he might be enjoying the benefits of bachelorhood. And with two of the loveliest women on the island at his disposal, he might take advantage. She’d turned down the invitation to breakfast he’d extended her, just so she could avoid an uncomfortable encounter with Eleanor. Plenty of time to decide if she wanted him, she decided.

She rode back to Nassau and gave Naya over to the care of the grooms, then sought dockside for her favorite boatman and had him row her to the Spaniard. The ladder was down almost before she could hail him, and she ran up the side as quickly as she could.

Flint was drinking his coffee, and poured a cup for her. He pushed it across the table to her, saying, “You look like you could use this.”

“I can,” she took a sip of the dark, bitter brew, then another. “Eleanor is alive, but I have yet to speak to her. I turned down Woods Rogers invitation to breakfast, I’m not quite ready to see her. I don’t know if they’re lovers, he gave no clue; his interest in me is obvious, but if he is bedding Eleanor I have no desire to step in between. If he does mean to seduce me, I’ll have to bring him to my rooms. God, I hate not knowing things.”

“What else is there you do not know?” Flint’s brow was burrowed, she knew what he might be thinking.

“About pardons? I don’t know, but it would be wise to have such a policy in place. Tell me, would you accept a pardon if it was offered? We both know that Charles wouldn’t, but what about you? I know you, brother, I know your anger. Have they seized your farm? Is it now the property of the crown? What happened to Miranda’s body?”

“I am not at this juncture inclined to accept a pardon from his Majesty, why should I want to. They’ve taken everything from me I hold dear…”

“Except me, Flint, you’ll always have me. Unless they imprison me, they’ll never be able to take me away from you.” She leaned forward and touched his hand, “I’m always here, you know that.”

He held the hand she offered. “I want you to leave here Cathy. Take a ship to Port Royal, it’s out of the way but if anyone is following you, you can throw them off track. Catch a ship to England, then make your way to France or to Italy. Things are going to get very ugly here before everything is settled. It’s going to be open season on pirates, and I don’t want you to get caught up in it. It’s time for you to get away from Charles Vane. Wasn’t there a French privateer you met once? Go find him, or anyone. Let me know where you are, and then when it’s safe, you can come back here if you still want to.”

“I don’t want to leave unless I know you are all right. And there’s the Spanish gold to think of—you promised me some of that. Charles Vane won’t accept a pardon, I know that, and now that Eleanor is back, well, I can see her plotting her revenge. How can I abandon all the people that I love? You brought me here, and now you want me to leave. I’m not sure I’m ready, and who else do you have to seduce the new governor? I’ll leave when I’m ready, I have no reason to worry—unlike you.” She set her cup on the table and left his cabin.


	30. Black Beard's Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hard to summarize this. Cathy is starting to become uncomfortable with her acquaintance with Woodes Rogers, and who can blame her? She is happy to hear that Eleanor is safe for the moment, and would like to re-unite with her, but still she shies away from doing so. Cathy sees the outline of Teach's ship, just past the anchorage, and is happy to see that he has returned. She likes the big, bold pirate, and trusts him as far as you can trust a pirate. But something feels wrong, She sees the redcoats marching up the beach and hides, fearful that they may have come for her. She is relieved, but not happy when they go into the brothel and drag someone out. Eleanor, in the meantime, wants to see Cathy, but is afraid of how it could affect her and Rogers blossoming affair. Cathy is feeling like nowhere is safe, and does not know how to align her loyalties with

It was too early in the day for a swim, but she sought the soothing sounds of her sanctuary at the waterfall, just to sit and think. And there was much she had to think about.

Flint was not going to accept a pardon, that much was clear, and not unexpected. What he thought he could accomplish in the way of driving out the English, she did not know, except to know that it was a an impossible dream. She’d seen His Majesty’s fleet and there was no way her brother could muster enough support to effectively resist a foe that outnumbered him. But Flint had his dreams, and there were others who believed in “The Pirate’s Republic”.

“Foolishness,” she said out loud, it was nothing but a pipe dream. Piracy would never be ended, but it was time for Nassau to change its ways. She had bedded two of the worst, Charles Vane and Ned Low, and not given it a second thought, but it was time to bring men like them under control, and to the gallows if need be. Selfishly, she did not want to see her brother suffer that fate, though he was as cruel as the rest. He was her brother, he looked out for her, and she loved him.

She wandered down the path that led from the grove to the beach, then stopped, seeing something that she could not believe. That ship lying just past the anchorage, the outlines looked familiar. She’d seen it before and now was trying to remember how to tell a ship from a distance. Not just whether it was a bark, or a brig, or a schooner, but the little details that captains loved that identified just who a ship belonged to. And she thought that she recognized this particular one though she had not seen it in a long time.  
The tide was not quite right for her to sail into the bay, but she seemed to be hugging the edges, waiting. Where had she been, Carolina? when this particular ship had been spotted. 

“There, miss,” the captain of the brigantine merchant vessel had once told her, “See that ship there, see the figurehead? Looks like we’re going to be lucky, he’s not hunting today. That’s the “Whyddah”, one of Blackbeard’s ships. A fearsome pirate he is, and he’s trained some of the worst, Charles Vane and Jack Rackham, for instance. Seems there was a woman with Rackham named Anne Bonney, just as fierce as the rest. A woman on board ship, especially a red-headed woman is supposed to be bad luck, but it looks like the devil you may have brought on board saved us.”

“Teach,” she said, “By god, Teach, you’ve returned to Nassau. Merde! I never thought I’d see the day when I’d see you again.” She felt a sudden wave of nostalgia for the big man with the black beard, a bear of a man, but a lovable one if he counted you a friend, and thank god she’d made friends with him. Maybe Nassau wouldn’t be lost after all.”

Or maybe it would. It would all depend upon Fate. She decided to return to her rooms to supervise the rest of her packing and then put all on a cart and follow with Naya and Hadba to the Pearl. Suddenly she wanted to be far away from Nassau very badly.

Or perhaps she was not far enough. She saw soldiers marching up the beach and heading to the inn. Suddenly she had a strange feeling that all was not well. She borrowed a scarf that hung on someone’s clothesline, and covered her head, tucking her braid inside her shirt. It seemed important, somehow, that she not be recognized. She did not know if Rogers had turned on her, if the soldiers were after her, but she would not take a chance. Rogers could hold her hostage to try to tempt her brother into staging a rescue for her. Whatever it was, Nassau proper seemed no longer safe for her, at least not for a while.

She found a place where she could watch unseen. The soldiers had not proceeded to her room, but had stopped at the inn, knocked. Was there someone then, they suspected? Not everyone was willing to sit passively by and watch the British take over. Men stood to lose what piracy and smuggling had gained them. Certainly the proprietor of the Pearl would have to lay low for a while. The pirates he did business with would take their goods elsewhere, for arrest was not worth the risk. The Pearl would return to being a sleepy little inn where someone might seek refuge from Nassau.

The soldiers went into the inn and came out, dragging a man who was protesting loudly. She could not see who it was, she did not care. This was good, not for the man who was captured, but at least today they were not after her. She was beginning to wonder if her daily rides with Rogers were a good idea, or would prove to be of use.

She went into the brothel and asked if anyone knew who had been arrested and why. He turned out to be no one special, and no one really knew why. Idella asked if she wanted to bathe, but she turned her down, and hired a maid to help her pack. She paid her double, knowing the maid would want to hold back part of her wages, and now she wouldn’t be caught. She packed her clothes, leaving out only a pair of slippers and one gown. Everything would be ready to move to the Pearl tomorrow.

 

“So, how was your ride?” Eleanor asked Rogers when he returned. She didn’t want him to see she was anxious, wondering if Woodes felt attracted to Cathy, whether he wanted to bed her. She knew she was no longer the girl who had been pursued by Charles Vane, eager and alive for new experiences. The woman who looked back at her in the mirror looked hollow eyed, sad, mouth drooping. Prison, fear of the noose, losing her father in the most unpleasant manner imaginable had all taken their toll.

And Rogers was not inviting her to accompany them on their rides.

Cathy was alive, crackling with energy. She lived her life recklessly and with abandon. She had never craved or carried the kinds of responsibility that Eleanor had. It was not that she had not been touched by these things; she was able to find a place for them and get on with her life. Cathy had a kind of luck, Flint had once explained to her, that most people did not, or maybe it was just an uncanny judgment. She had pulled off a robbery where she had no right to succeed. She had escaped to Italy, complete with her loot, escaped Ned Lowe, and had lived in Europe until she had grown homesick for Nassau and returned.

Rogers was talking to her, but she hadn’t heard him. “Cathy turned down breakfast, but what would do you think she would say to dinner? I know you’d like to see her again.”  
“Maybe she’s nervous. Her brother just barely escaped hanging in Charles Town, she’s aware that you’re here to bring order to Nassau and that there are people she knows who might wind up at the end of a noose. And she’s too close to not only one but several people who are refusing to end their ways and accept the Crown’s pardon. She’s not a pirate, but she might be afraid you’ll use her as bait to attract someone.” Eleanor smiled, she that this was exactly what Cathy was thinking.

“If you’re sure that’s the case, I’ll reassure her that I know she’s not involved in any illegal activities. Maybe I’ll issue her a blanket pardon, just so she has it for protection.” He grew quiet for a moment, “Eleanor?”

“Yes, Woodes?”

“You’re not jealous of her, are you?” He looked at her the way any man looked when he asked that question, slightly guilty, but wanting to reassure her.

“I would be a fool not to be jealous of Cathy Flint. She attracts men without trying, and I’m not trying to exaggerate. She’s beautiful, but her beauty is not just skin deep. It’s hard not to be drawn to her, I know, I tried to not like her but didn’t succeed. She has the qualities that I used to have, before I found myself in a prison cell in England. She hasn’t been touched by the tragedies that I have, life hasn’t lost its promise for her, as it seems to for me—at times. If you tried to seduce her, she might not turn you down. And yes, again, I would be jealous, but I could get over it.” She smiled, wanting for him to think it was all right if it did happen.

“Well, when you first told me who she was, I considered it, but she was not the one I wanted, it was her brother.”

“Wouldn’t you have considered doing it anyway?” Eleanor sat and cupped her chin in her hand.

“Well, yes,” he hesitated, and then went on, “Some people you just don’t do that to. I decided that I could capture her brother on my own if the opportunity presented itself. I don’t need Flint, not yet. I’m more inclined to help her leave Nassau and take a ship back to England, if she wants. But first, I would like to reunite the two of you.”

Why, thought Eleanor, what advantage would it be to you? Or would you do it truly for altruistic reasons? Cathy isn’t privy to anyone’s plans, you could hardly find out anything from her. On the other hand, she has a better knowledge of what is happening on the beach. She may have information as to who’s come into port, but not what they’re up to. Does he think he’s clever enough to convince her to spy for him? I don’t think she’d want to do that. I’m guessing she’s left Charles again because she’s smart. Flint deliberately keeps her in the dark when it comes to his plans for her own safety.

“Maybe it should happen on its own,” she suggested, “When the time is right, it will happen.”

“Now you’re sounding like a fatalist,” he smiled, “But it does not seem so out of the question.”

 

Cathy had other plans, ones she hesitated to put into action, but seemed the right course. Maybe it was time she sought out Teach. Maybe having the governor on her side was inevitable, but always in the back of her mind was her flight from Havana. She had done something very foolish, on a whim, and though it had paid off, she always wondered if she was still wanted by His Majesty, the King of Spain.

Strategy was a McGraw family characteristic, inherited by both brother and sister from their father. He had schemed to get his son into the Royal Navy because he knew the opportunities it would present. He had an uncommonly beautiful daughter, and once his son was established with Lord Hamilton, he had used that connection to have an advantageous marriage arranged with the widowed Lord Peter Ashe. 

We do very few things without reason, we Flints, Cathy thought. She had ceased thinking of herself as “Cathy McGraw” a long time ago. She had been “Bridget O’Flaherty” when she had traveled to Cuba, “Olivia Fabiano” when she had fled with the Genoans. The only thing a very few from Havana would recognize would be her face and her red hair. How long had it been now, five years, six? She might be wanted, but not a priority. At the Urca gold was first and foremost in the Spanish governor’s mind. And she did not think any Cuban agent had followed her.

Still, the sight of soldiers made her nervous. And she wanted to know what was going on, and the pirates would be close mouthed. All she had to do, though, was engage a boatman to travel the coast of the island, and sooner or later she would find Teach’s camp. If he came to Nassau at all, he would not remain for long; she was not so crazy about staying, herself. But was it wise? Would Teach seek out Charles? And what about Flint? Her brother came and went at will, never telling even her of his plans. She was sure that was deliberate, but it was a source of much frustration.

She worried about him. Before the arrival of the Crown, Nassau had certainly not been safe, but she knew its ways. Now, nothing was the same. Max was not complacent, but she counted too much on maintaining her position, Flint was gone, Eleanor was with the governor, in whatever status, and the lord only knew what would happen to a hothead like Vane who was even more unpredictable than her brother.

Perhaps she should throw in her lot with Woodes Rogers; she just didn’t want to do it yet. She had stolen the Cuban governor’s treasure so that she could achieve independence for herself. That would all be lost if the governor or a member of his staff wanted to take her under their protection, she did not want to be protected.

Well, the move to the Pearl was step one. Step two? Frankly she had no idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the 20 kudos! Though this story has gotten fewer reads than my others, you do seem to enjoy it, and I thank you (again). I know I do not present the usual pairing that people expect because it's what they like and are familiar with. That just ain't my style (to borrow a line from the infamous poem "Casey at Bat"). I know a lot of people don't like O/C's, though I think that's what makes fan fiction more interesting myself. I guess I write what I want to write, and hope that you like my storyline well enough to keep reading. So again, thank you for doing so!


	31. Requiem for a Scoundrel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written after seeing the episode on Saturday night. Wow. I knew that Charles Vane was hanged, but it happened in Port Royal, not Nassau. Also he spake no last words, good for him.
> 
> Zach, Zach, sexy sexy Zach, we are going to miss you!
> 
> Oh, the story, Cathy brings Eleanor some herbal remedies for Woodes' fever, Finds out from her Charles is going to hang. 
> 
> Cathy and Billy Bones finally do the nasty. (I've been waiting to write that) Happy reading

I wanted to make this a little closer to what Vane’s hanging was like historically but also use the story on the Friday 19 episode. We’re going to miss you a lot, Zach.

The move to the Pearl gave Cathy a sense of relative safety. Even here there was no immunity from the presence of the British, but activities had never been carried on so openly as they had in Nassau. What had changed was people were more close mouthed about what went on, but if someone had something to sell that could not be put on the open market, it was possible to find a way to sell it. Ships would still come in, unload goods and disappear in the middle of the night. The chink of gold coins could be heard in hands that made no honest living.

A good hideaway, but it was harder to hear news. Flint had repaired and taken possession of the Walrus again, but she wasn’t in Nassau port or anywhere else to be found. For her safety he never told her of his comings and goings, but now that there was so much to lose, she wished he’d let her know, if only for her peace of mind. 

News was trickling in and none of it good. Rackham had been captured, then on the way to be shipped to Havana, he had been rescued. And Charles Vane had been captured in the process.

And then more disturbing news, Woodes Rogers had contracted a fever, no doubt brought on by his lack of immunity to the diseases on the island which the natives took for granted. She herself had suffered, and recovered from the fever herself. She had been a fairly new arrival, not there yet a year, and so she had not yet had the chance to build up the immunity that would have kept her from being vulnerable, or lesson its severity.

It was how she had met Ruby Marie. She remembered her first sight of the huge, smelly black Obeah woman, she had thought she was suffering another fit of deliriums. But as frightening as her visage was, the old black woman had bathed her forehead, fed her foul tasting brews, and fanned her until she was past danger and started to recover. Flint had dropped coins into the old woman’s hand and clapped her on the shoulder, thanking her. She had recovered, and in her gratitude, had taken the time to get to know the old woman who had given her back her life.

She saddled Naya, and galloped up the beach to Nassau Town. After Naya was stabled, she went to Ruby, seeking out the herbs she knew he’d need to get well. This was no disease the English had a cure for. She did not understand how the herbs worked, she only knew that they did. How many days had Rogers been sick? The medicinal herbs worked best in the early stages, but they would help, no matter how long he’d been sick. Would they cure? She was not sure, but they would help make him more comfortable—if she could persuade anyone to use them.

“Take care, child,” Ruby told her, taking her arm, “There may be more awaiting ye than ye are prepared for.” She nodded, and dropped a generous handful of coins into the old woman’s hand.

Charles! She had forgotten about him. Surely they would not try him in Nassau, but instead hold the trial in Port Royal as was the custom. And if Woodes was sick, surely that would grant Charles a temporary reprieve.

She put the bags of herbs into a basket and walked towards the building which Rogers had made his headquarters. She felt light headed, but she would not allow herself to faint as she forced herself to put one foot in front of another and continue walking. Even the appreciative looks she got from the soldiers she passed did not affect her, she would not allow herself to return their looks and smiles. She was here for Woodes Rogers—and Eleanor.

If she had expected to just walk in as she might have in the old days, she was disappointed, she found her way blocked by bayonetted rifles, but she stood her ground. “I am here to see Woodes Rogers and Eleanor Guthrie,” she announced in her most ringing tones, and waited patiently, not willing to leave.

Soon, a familiar face appeared, but how that face had changed! Eleanor seemed to have lost some of her old imperious manner, but she seemed to have a sense of her position in the governor’s household. “Let her in,” she said, and Cathy’s way was no longer blocked and she ran up the steps into Eleanor’s arms. To the surprise of both, they each began to cry, then kissed each other affectionately as sisters. “I’m glad you’re here,” Eleanor whispered and led her into Woodes’ bedroom.

Cathy put her hand on Woodes hot, wet, forehead. “How many days, Eleanor?” she asked.

“A few,” she answered, “But less than a week.”

Cathy picked a cloth up out of a basin of water and bathed his feverish forehead. “Well, then, I think I can help. Remember when I had the fever and Flint sent for Ruby Marie? She nursed me through it and I recovered, and though I get the fever once in a while now, it’s much less severe. I’m not a fever nurse like Ruby, but she gave me the same things that she used on me when I had it.”

She picked up the packets, setting them on the table. “This first one is to help lower the fever. You boil a pint of water then take it off the heat, pour in two tablespoons of the herbs and let it sit for ten minutes or so. Then stir it and pour a cup and make him drink it. Give it to him twice a day, but no more than three cups. This one if for nausea and stomach cramps when he has them, this one for the cough, and this one to help him relax and sleep. Opium is good if you have it, but give it to him sparingly and only if he’s in a great deal of pain or cannot sleep.”

Eleanor looked at the packets now sitting on the bedside table. “I doubt I can get the doctors to use these, Cathy.”

“Well, you must try. If you can convince them he will stand a better chance of recovering. I was younger than he is when I contracted it, so I made a full recovery. He may not, but he stands a better chance using the herbs than if he doesn’t. There are medicinal powers in these humble remedies, I don’t know where Ruby gets them, but I know for a fact that some of them come from off the island. Reason with the doctors, if you must, but make sure they use them.”

Eleanor put an arm around Cathy, “Come, we must talk, and I do not want our words to be overheard, they are for your ears only.” She led Cathy out of the room, and they found themselves on a path that they had walked many times before—almost in another age, another era. How things had changed.

They sat on the ground beneath a plumeria full of fragrant white blossoms. “Cathy, this is a very hard thing to tell you, but you must know. They are going to hold a trial for Charles here, and if he is found guilty, he will be hanged the next day.”

Cathy covered her hands with her face and burst into tears. “Why not in Port Royal, is that not the custom? Do the British wish to make an example of him?”

Eleanor wisely said nothing. “I see,” said Cathy, “Are they aware that this may have a twofold effect? His death will surely intimidate some, but I am sure it might have the opposite effect on others. Are the British so complacent then, that they think they could accomplish their ends with a few pieces of paper?”

“Both of us know what Charles is like. And it’s not only that he killed your father. He tortured prisoners, killed and tortured prisoners that he promised to free, he cheated his men and look a larger portion of his loot than he was entitled to. And he’s much more passionate than he’s smart. I’ve always said that he was born to swing, and damned if he isn’t proving me right.” She wrapped her arms tightly about herself, “I just don’t think anyone deserves that sort of end. I wouldn’t want to see him rot in a prison cell, so maybe this is best, I don’t know.”

She’s not putting the blame on me, thought Eleanor, though she must know I’m partly responsible for this. I think she’s always known it would come to this, maybe she thought she would not have to be around to see it.

“Cathy, leave. Go to England, go to France, go anywhere. This has nothing to do with you, maybe you don’t belong here anymore. You still have sentimental feelings attached to Charles, I don’t. He killed my father, I can never forgive him. Go find your French privateer, leave the bad memories of Nassau behind, and make some new ones.”

“Maybe,” she answered, maybe. She kissed Eleanor and left her, wondering if she truly realized what she was doing. Maybe, maybe not, but it had not been her father who was killed.

She walked down to the beach and sat on the sand, looking out towards the horizon for the familiar lines of the Whyddah, but there was nothing. Teach, Teach, where are you, she thought, I need you to rescue him. You were friends, once. But all that was there was the empty ocean.

She should have gone and gotten Naya and ridden home. Instead, she wandered into the inn and ordered a large glass of rum. She couldn’t face this sober, and she intended to down the whole thing, and then as many more as it took.

“You don’t need this.” She looked up and saw Billy Bones looking at her, the smile she knew and loved so well absent from his face. The care and tenderness in his eyes threatened to bring back the tears, but instead she led him to the room she would not occupy ever again. She undid her blouse and the drawstring of her skirt and kicked them aside as he quickly stripped his clothes off. He lifted her up by her slender waist and wrapped her legs around him, kissing her hard, kissing her as he’d always wanted to kiss her, but knew he had to wait for the time to be right.

He laid her down on the bed, his lips and tongue teasing her nipple, smiling as he heard her moans of desire. He took a huge handful of her red hair and pulled it tightly as he entered her, feeling her hips coming up to meet him, hearing her soft sigh of “yes”.

He began to move, slowly at first, then more quickly, “God knows you’ve made me wait long enough for this,” he told her, and watched her smile. Then they became lost in their lovemaking, making it last as long as they could before he finally let himself go.

They lay for a while in the darkened room. “I’ve got to go soon, Cathy, I heard word they’re hanging him today.” He pulled away and looked at her. “I want you to be away from here when it happens.”

“But…” she tried to object, but he silenced her.

“No buts, Cathy, the last thing you should see is the sight of Charles Vane dangling from a rope. No woman should see that happen to her lover. You’re not Eleanor Guthrie, you’re not so hard as she. Get on your horse and ride back to the Pearl. I’ll come to you when it’s over.”

“And then what, Billy?”

“I’m going to get you on a ship to Port Royal. You can find a ship to England from there. I don’t want you here, your brother doesn’t want you here until it’s all over. One way or another this thing will be settled someday. “He watched her start to cry, “No, not like that, Cathy. If you cry for Vane, that’s different, but don’t cry over this. If we never see each other again, we have this to remember each other by. I just wish I hadn’t waited so long.”

She put her hand on the back of his neck and kissed him. “You were always sweet to me, Billy. You’ve always been my friend, and as my friend I know you would never give me bad advice. I’ll slip out of here so no one will see us together. And I promise you, I won’t watch him hang. I know he wouldn’t want me to, so I’ll honor it. You’ve been the best of friends, Billy, and I won’t forget it.” She put on her clothes and slipped out the door. Would he ever see her again, he wondered.

She had to fight her way through the people who were gathering in the street. She could see Max and Eleanor standing on a balcony, and wondered how they could stand to watch what was coming. She fetched Naya from the stable, checked the cinch to see if it was still tight enough, and then mounted her and turned her face away from the crowd and galloped back to the Pearl, crying, making no effort to stop her tears. He deserved at least that much.

 

The crowd had gathered as if to witness a Roman spectacle instead of the shameful taking of a human life. Charles Vane rode in the back of a cart, looking down at his hands, refusing to give the crowd a look at his face. Fear would not have been there, perhaps disgust and scorn, but he would not give them his fear. He looked up once and saw Eleanor, and wondered what he had ever seen in her. A reflection of his own self, perhaps? They were alike, after all. She was exchanging her father’s life for his, and he couldn’t really blame her.

It was Cathy’s voice he was hearing in his ear, encouraging him reminding him that it was only death, after all. Was that her silky hair he felt just now against his cheek, or was it only his own? And that whiff of jasmine, had that been her?

The cart pulled up under the scaffold, and they undid the chain that had kept him bound to the cart. They tried to drag him up, but he stood up tall and proud on his own. They could kill him in the most undignified way possible, but they could not rob him of his pride. 

He looked around, curious to see if any had come to bid him farewell, and saw Billy Bones standing there. Don’t do something stupid, Billy, he thought, and looked at him. Billy nodded as if he understood. He had no last words, he had nothing to say, these people did not deserve a speech, an explanation, a repentance. The look he gave them let them know they were beneath him, little better than a mob.

The noose dropped and was placed around his neck and again he was asked if he had something to say, but a steely eyed glance was his only response. He heard the horse begin to move and he walked off the back of the cart and was suddenly suspended, the noose choking him, depriving him of air. Those bastards had given him short drop hanging, and he would suffocate slowly and painfully to death.

But he was not forgotten, not all in the crowd were his enemies. The soldiers stood by as men rushed up and began to pull on him, breaking his neck and ending his agony. The rule of Charles Vane had come to an end.

 

Cathy sat in her darkened rooms, staring at the bottle of rum she had not even opened, I wish I had some opium, she thought, drink is not enough for this agony. She turned as she heard a knock at the door, softly at first, then more loudly and insistent.

She opened the door and Billy Bones was standing there. She fell into his arms, not able to support herself on her feet. “It’s okay, Cathy,” she heard him say, “It’s over for now. That’s a good girl.” And he held her tightly as she sobbed.


	32. Two Women

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy comforts Cathy after Charles Vanes' execution. Cathy is captured by Woodes Rogers men and brought for questioning, but why?

Billy knew that he needed to leave, but the Cathy he held in his arms reminded him of the Cathy he had held the same way years ago, her face bruised and beaten by Charles cruelty. But that was a different Cathy and a different Charles. This one, though older and wiser, seemed more fragile than she had when she had fled Nassau and Charles Vane. This Cathy was no longer the callow young girl, but a woman with a woman’s wisdom and knowledge.

He pulled her dress off and removed his clothes. Make love to her, he thought, hold her, comfort her, caress her, but make love to her, or you never may have the chance again. And though it had taken the two of them a long time to come together, they found comfort with each other. Were he someone other than what he was, he might try to marry his captain’s wild and capricious sister.

When they finished he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. “We’ve got to arrange to get you off this island, Cathy, it’s not safe for you here. They might try to capture you to entice Flint to come to them, or hold you for ransom. Either way, it’s not safe.”

“Find me someone who’s sailing to Port Royal then.” She raised up on her elbow, “I know it’s shorter to go to Boston, but in Port Royal no one knows me. I can spend a few months hiding, get a new wardrobe made for England. It will be easier to get news of Nassau from there. Maybe if things quiet down I can come back.”

“Now, why would you want to do that? Flint would want you to leave and not come back. Coming back could put you in danger. Didn’t you tell me you had a lover when you were in Paris? Why not try to find him?”

“Do you really think it’s safe to cross the Atlantic? How do I know I won’t run into the next Teach or Ned Low or Charles Vane? Don’t you think that once the word gets out, there will be pirates flocking into Nassau to help fight off the British takeover?”

“Or you could say there will be ships of the line of His Majesty coming from England to aid in the defense of Nassau. No, Cathy, it’s better if you get away for now. Flint doesn’t want you in on this, neither do I. I’ll see who’s in port and find out who can take you to Jamaica. I want you to avoid Nassau for the moment, someone here ought to be able to accommodate you.”

She slipped her arms around his neck, “Come with me, Billy. I have lots of money, we won’t need to worry about running out. You want me to leave? Why don’t you leave with me?”

Billy sighed. It was what he wanted to do, but he liked his life and it suited him. Cathy knew, too, and she knew the answer before he even gave it to her.

“You wouldn’t be happy, I wouldn’t be happy. The life of a buccaneer suits me, I can’t see being anything else. Were you and I different people, the answer would be yes, but we’re not.”

“I know that, I don’t even know why I ask! We need to find a ship that will take me to Port Royal, one that will sail from here and not from Nassau Town. I wish I knew what was going on, at least I did when I stayed there, now I have no idea, except that Eleanor has gone over to the other side.”

She wondered too, what had happened to Woodes Rogers. Had he recovered from the fever? She knew she needed to be wary of him, tread carefully and be away from New Providence as soon as possible. The problem was she liked him, might even have been his lover had things been different. All that was gone now  
.  
Let’s see, she thought, what might be going on? Eleanor had regained the power she had lost, ever so reluctantly. Maybe a stay in Newgate had done her good. Max would desperately be trying to hold onto the power she’d gained but now was certainly close to losing. Maybe they would re-kindle their old friendship to the benefit of both. She herself had no interest in power, never had. All she wanted was the freedom to come and go as she pleased, live her life as she saw fit. It might be hard now. The fighting was sure to start any day. The pirates had lost Nassau and were desperate to get her back.

“I want to see my brother,” she said out loud, “I want to see Flint before I go, but I don’t know where he is. Do you have any idea, Billy? What is he up to, what are his plans? He’s a schemer, he won’t be content just to let things be.” She looked at Billy with her heart in her green eyes, “Please Billy, won’t you tell me what you know?”

“I can’t Cathy, there’s a battle coming, and the less you know, no, the more ignorant of it you are, the better. I can try to get word to him, maybe get him to write a note to you, but I hope to have you on a ship before all hell breaks loose. He wanted me to look after you, make sure you were all right, and get you out of here and that’s what I mean to do. I know you Cathy, I know you have contacts here and in Nassau Town and you can find out where he is if that’s what you want to do. I’m only asking you to not try.”

 

She had Hadba saddled, and that afternoon went out to ride. Billy had more to do than search for a ship for her, so it was fruitless to expect immediate news. Hadba needed to be ridden, and there were few on the island that could handle the half broken mare, though her manners were improving. A gallop would do both of them good, and there was a nice breeze coming in off the water that was pleasant for the time of year.

She didn’t realize that she was riding in the direction of British headquarters until it was too late. She hadn’t intended to, but had unconsciously given Hadba her head and the mare had chosen her own direction. It was not until she found herself surrounded by British soldiers that she discovered the mistake she had made.

But she knew what to do. She brought the restive horse to a halt and sat calmly, looking around at the soldiers. “I am sorry,” she said in even, smooth tones, “I do not know what it is that you want from me.”

A lieutenant, sitting straight and erect in his saddle said, “You will come with us please,” then reached out to grab Hadba’s bridle. In response, the mare jerked her head and rolled her eyes. She bared her teeth, and only Cathy’s quick thinking saved his arm.

“I’m sorry, but she’s spooky. I’m in the process of finishing her training, but she does not react well to strangers, or other horses. I will come with you, but you must give her some space so she does not feel threatened.”

The lieutenant nodded his head, then turned his horse around. He had not expected to find so much poise is the woman he’d just taken prisoner. After the incident with her horse, she now seemed the one in control, sitting calmly in the saddle, acting as though the soldiers were providing her an escort, not taking her captive.

I should not have ridden this direction, she thought, but it will be all right. I’ve done nothing they will arrest me for, the Spanish robbery was over five years ago. I’ve kept myself apart from the pirates, I don’t even know where my brother is. I don’t know why they have taken me, but I will not lose my temper, and I will not show off and be too clever. Cooperation on my part will either help me or arouse suspicion. Either way, I stand to gain by not trying to do something stupid.

The party stopped in front of Woodes Rogers offices—the building once occupied by Eleanor’s father. Here she made a decision. She tied Hadba’s reins to the pommel, then let them slip through her fingers and the young mare took off. Some of the soldier’s began to pursue her, but Cathy knew they would not catch up to her until she reached the stable at the Pearl. Someone would think something happened to her, everyone knew how zealously she guarded her horses. If Woodes decided to detain her, someone might tell Billy and maybe he would guess what happened to her.

 

No one put their hands on her as they lead her into his office. He was not there, was that a sign he was still ill? Who then had ordered that she be brought in?

She had part of her answer when he walked into the room. Woodes Rogers came into the room, looking pale from his ordeal with the fever, but he was not dressed in his robe. She walked over to him, ignoring the looks she was receiving from Eleanor and took his hands.

“I am so glad you are all right,” she said, “It could have gone so many ways, but I can see you have survived it. The first time I contracted the fever, my brother did not know if I would live or not. Did they use the herbs I sent? They were what saved me, and there is one you should be drinking to regain your strength.”

He squeezed her hands warmly, “Yes, Eleanor had them administer them, and never have I drunk anything so foul tasting in my life. But they seemed to have worked, I didn’t make much progress until I started using them, and then I grew quickly better.” In spite of Eleanor’s presence, he kissed her swiftly on the cheek.

“Can we not talk in private then, so that I can learn why I have been brought here against my will and no reason given? If Eleanor feels it necessary, I would not object to her being present.”

Though I do object, Eleanor, she thought, there was no reason for this. Had you waited a week or so, I would be gone and away from Nassau. You already know the things I will have to explain to him, and I would have been safely away from your lover—or at least I suspect you are lovers. He met you first, but then met me. I do not have the hollow eyed prisoner look that you do, and if I were you, I’d be dressed much better than you. You used to be more colorful, and had more life in your eyes, now you look like a sad faced Puritan, like that damn Miranda Barlow.

He lead her into his private office, with Eleanor trailing behind. He gestured her to a chair across from his, then opened a cabinet and removed a bottle of amber liquor.

“I don’t know if you ladies will scold me for this or not, but I could use a drink. Cathy, will you join me?”

“Yes, I would love one, and it won’t harm you if you just have one,” she spoke quickly so Eleanor could not interrupt, “Is that whisky or run?”  
“Whisky, I hope you approve, though you islanders do like your rum.” He set a glass in front of her, and took a sip from his. He had ignored Eleanor, Cathy noted with some satisfaction. 

It’s like the old days, she thought, when we were competing over Charles, and he couldn’t make up his mind which one he wanted more, so he kept the two of us. I wonder if that’s what you’re thinking, my dear Mr. Rogers, which of us is the most beautiful and desirable. That would probably be me, I’m the better educated, too, which I’m sure you find appealing. But, if you prefer women who need to be rescued, then it’s Eleanor you’ll want, for though I am always glad to receive help if I need it, I prefer to rescue myself. The only one who ever rescued me was Billy, and that was after Charles had beaten me so badly that I could barely move.

She drew her chair closer to his desk. “Can you please tell me, why I’ve been brought here? I have no idea. Charles Vane has been hung, and I have no idea where my brother is, it’s always like that between us. He keeps me ignorant of his activities so I’ll be in no danger of being accused of colluding with him. Eleanor knows this for the truth, I have often come to her offices trying to find out where he was. I don’t hear from him for weeks at a time.”

“That is true,” Eleanor spoke for the first time, “He doesn’t want her to be burdened with the knowledge of his activities. He’s very protective of her. I wouldn’t know what that’s like, I’ve never had a brother, or a sister, for that matter.”

“Eleanor, could you leave us please?” It surprised Cathy to hear him say this, but she took it as a good sign. Eleanor shrugged her shoulders and left.

“Cathy, I did not have you brought here, Eleanor did. Is there bad blood between you that she would wish you ill?”

Cathy shrugged her shoulders. “Bad blood? No, not really. It’s not like we haven’t been at odds before, but that was over Charles. Maybe she thought it unfair when she was arrested and transported to England, and has picked me as her reason to be angry. I’m not the one who ran a smuggling outfit and worked with pirates, I’m only related to one and had an on and off relationship with another. Did you talk about me to her? Maybe she wanted to see how we interacted with each other, so she’d know if she should be jealous. If she wanted to talk to me, she could have left me a message at the Pearl, and I would have come.”  
“Hmm, Charles Vane and you, I don’t think I would have guessed it.”

“Woodes, I was ripe for a Charles Vane when I met him. I escaped a marriage I dreaded more than death, I got away from my family in England, he represented a freedom for me that I’d never known before. I think he would have liked me better if I was one of those doxies from the brothel, but he learned to deal with the woman he had. But I grew out of my infatuation with him, though we were together on and off for about five years. My brother was never too happy about it, but between him and Vane, I learned to live life on my terms.”

“Yes, I remember hearing about your running away from your marriage. Everyone thought it foolish of you, you were taking quite the step up into society, prestige, and money.”

“You have no idea how glad I was to leave it behind. I could not stand the thought of being Peter Ashe’s wife. Now I no longer care to be anyone’s wife. I like my life, I’m happy, but I don’t think Eleanor is. I wonder if she’s ever been happy, or would know it if she felt it.”

“I’ve no doubt that you’re happy Cathy, not with that smile of yours. I was going offer to let you shelter here, to get you away from possible harm. If you’d like to go to Port Royal, or even to England, I can inquire about a ship for you.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, I’d like that. In the meantime, could I borrow a horse? Hadba got away from me when I got here. The Pearl is further than I care to walk.”


	33. Ocricoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cathy's options are beginning to run out. Nassau is too full of memories of Charles Vane. She was brought to Woodes, but not held and released--to Eleanor's dismay. She has no news of her brother, has no idea where he is, but respects Flint's concern for her by keeping her in the dark. She is aware that she is being followed, no doubt Rogers hopes that somehow or other she will try to contact him. The only option she seems to have is to travel to Port Royal to recover from the events that have happened, and then sail to France. But, in doing so, she will have to leave behind everyone she cares about

Eleanor watched, clearly distraught, as Cathy was lead to the stables by one of Woodes’ aides. “What are you doing?” she wailed, “Why are you letting her go, when you have her here?”

He put his arm around her shoulders and led her away. “Number one,” he said, “Never speak to me like that in front of anyone. Number two, just how much do you think she really knows about Flint’s whereabouts? My spies have told me that the Walrus sailed into a storm, so her brother may not even be alive. And, as both of you said, he does not tell her of his doings, he keeps her in the dark. Most likely she does not even know where he is. Did you not tell me that often she does not hear from him for months at a time?”

“Yes, that is true. He is very protective of her and keeps her ignorant of his plans for her safety. Still, he’ll try to contact her eventually.”

He chucked her under her chin, “But it may not be for a long time, and I have no intention of waiting. Except as a trap, Cathy Flint is of no use to me. If she decides to return to Europe, he may come out of hiding, or at least lead us to some of his contacts. Now, I have heard that his old quartermaster, one Billy Bones by name, is living with her, or spends a good deal of time with her at the Pearl. I have spies active in Nassau, and I think that I should maybe pay a little more attention there. It’s said to be a smugglers’ nest, only they operate more covertly than you did.”

“In the old days, the Pearl was sought out by people who didn’t want to deal with us, Father and me, I mean,” she said, “They run a profitable enterprise, I’m told, but we were never sure of how much money was exchanged. At the Pearl you had to be introduced to be allowed to do business. We were never sure how they got rid of their goods, but it was rumored they made a lot of money.”

“So we will only be able to take the Pearl by stealth in order to shut it down? I will keep that in mind. Now, as far as letting Cathy go, Lieutenant Mabry is a very amiable young man. Not only will he return my horse, but he’ll get a look at the situation himself. Then we’ll determine where to plant spies so they’ll do the most good. If Cathy is eager to get away I do all I can to persuade her to go to Port Royal, where I can keep an eye on her. Flint will come out of hiding eventually, I’m sure, and try to find his sister. Hopefully then he will lead us to his hideout, and we can take them all at once.”

“You’re leaving Teach out of the equation, though, I’ve heard he’s back. You got rid of one scoundrel, but there are more to take his place. And if you spy on Cathy, I’m sure she’ll find out eventually—it’s just my guess, but she could. Cathy knows how to go to ground, and she will if she suspects someone is following her. I think Teach is at his old hideout on Ocricoke Island, and she may go there. He always liked her, everyone always liked her, unlike me whom no one liked.”  
“But I like you,” he kissed her on her forehead, “I like you very much. You’re important to me, Eleanor, don’t underestimate yourself. I’ll take care of you, you’re safe with me.” She put her head on his shoulder and they walked back to his quarters where they could be alone.

 

Cathy did not know if she had gotten off easily or not. In principle, Rogers could have held her just because she was Flint’s sister, but if tried, she would have been released—she had committed no crimes against the crown. The young lieutenant who had escorted her back had been personable enough. He’d helped her dismount when they reached the stable, informed her that if she needed anything, she only need let someone know and Lord Rogers would see it taken care of. And he’d had a disarmingly charming smile.

Don’t have me followed Woodes, please, she thought, I don’t know where my brother is and I worry about him. He’s my brother, after all. Cautious by nature, she did not seek out Anne Bonny or Jack Rackham, or search for Billy Bones. She was not sure that her actions were being watched until a day or two later when she noticed that someone always seemed to following in her footsteps, be it to see Ruby, or go to the market, or even something simple as having a drink or two in the inn.

She couldn’t blame him, Woodes Rogers knew his business, but this was going to have to stop. Either she took ship to England or Port Royal or she would have to find a way to escape her shadows

“What to do, what to do?” She’d heard a rumor that Teach was at his old headquarters on Ocricoke Island, he was sure to take her in, provided she hadn’t been followed. But how to do this? The island would be almost impossible to find by night, she could drift far out to see if she made an error in navigating. 

Damn Eleanor! Why did Fate seem to decree that they were attracted to the same man? If Woodes were attracted to the helpless type, to a woman who needed to be rescued, she certainly could not compete. Eleanor had seen so quiet, so subdued, where before she used to crackle with energy. Perhaps that was what he wanted.

She and Woodes had come close to bedding, but once again she had lost out to Eleanor. Of the two of them, she knew she was the more beautiful, and now the more spirited and animated. Not for her the almost puritanical gowns Eleanor had adopted. She loved her silk dresses and sack gowns, all in an array of colors that put flowers to shame. She would have gone willingly into his bed, too, though it would not have been without trepidation. No one could not deny that Woodes Rogers was a very handsome man.

Her thoughts turned back to Teach. Someone would have to tell Teach that Vane had been hanged, maybe Rackham had taken it upon himself already. His dog had probably gone with him, if he had, she snickered a little at Vane’s name for Anne Bonney. Perhaps that was where the trouble had started.

Suddenly she felt a pang of lonesomeness, she wanted to see Flint. He was her big brother, he had always been her protector. She remembered the days when he would hold her on his lap if anything frightened her. Now that Miranda Barlowe was gone, they had reclaimed some of their old closeness. She might not always like him, but she admired him and she trusted him.

She needed to move, she needed to find Billy Bones, she needed to get away from Nassau Town. Woodes would set spies on her if she went to Port Royal, but he would be disappointed, she had no connections there. If she knew where Flint was, could get word to him, she’d have a better idea of how to proceed.

 

“For the first time in my life I don’t know what to do.” She walked along the beach, so similar to the one in Nassau, but lacked the crowded tents and fires. Right now the Pearl felt safe, but soon the Governor would turn his attentions to it. What do you have to stay here for, anyway? She told herself severely, you can’t abide Nassau because Charles was hung there. You don’t know where Flint is, and it’s foolish to try to find him—and Billy won’t talk.

Billy, she’d like to see him, she’d like to curl up in his arms, make love, and try to forget. She was going to have to leave, there was no longer a place for her here. What was she going to do, where should she go? She wanted nothing to do with Woodes Rogers, or Eleanor, or Max, and if there should form a resistance, she intended to stay away from that. She’d escaped a Spanish noose and she had no intention of finding her neck in an English one.

She was so lost in thought that she was unaware that someone came up from behind and kissed her neck. “Billy,” she said and turned into his arms, and suddenly found herself crying tears she could neither control nor stop.

The Cathy that Billy held in his arms reminded him of the Cathy he had held the same way years ago, her face bruised and beaten by Charles cruelty. But that was a different Cathy and a different Charles. This one, though older and wiser, seemed more fragile than she had when she had fled Nassau and Charles Vane. This Cathy was no longer the callow young girl, but a woman with a woman’s wisdom and knowledge. 

He took her by the hand and led her to her room. He pulled off her dress and removed his clothes. Make love to her, he thought, hold her, comfort her, caress her, but make love to her, or you never may have the chance again. And though it had taken the two of them a long time to come together, they found comfort with each other. Were he someone other than what he was, he might try to marry his captain’s wild and capricious sister.

When they finished he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. “We’ve got to arrange to get you off this island, Cathy, it’s not safe for you here. They might try to capture you to entice Flint to come to them, or hold you for ransom. Either way, it’s not safe.”

“Find me someone who’s sailing to Port Royal—that’s what Woodes Rogers suggested.” She raised up on her elbow, “I know he’ll spy on me but, no one knows me there. I can spend a few months hiding, get a new wardrobe made for England. It will be easier to get news of Nassau and I can return in a hurry if need be. Maybe if things quiet down I can come back.”

“Now, why would you want to do that? Flint would want you to leave and not come back. Coming back could put you in danger. Didn’t you tell me you had a lover when you were in Paris? Why not try to find him?”

“Do you really think it’s safe to cross the Atlantic? How do I know I won’t run into the next Teach or Ned Low or Charles Vane? Don’t you think that once the word gets out, there will be pirates flocking into Nassau to help fight off the British takeover?”

“Or you could say there will be ships of the line of His Majesty coming from England to aid in the defense of Nassau. No, Cathy, it’s better if you get away for now. Flint doesn’t want you in on this, neither do I. I’ll see who’s in port and find out who can take you to Jamaica. We want to avoid Nassau for the moment, someone here ought to be able to accommodate you.”

She slipped her arms around his neck, “Come with me, Billy. I have lots of money, we won’t need to worry about running out. You want me to leave? Why don’t you leave with me?”

Billy sighed. It was what part of him wanted, but he liked his life and it suited him. Besides, he had things to do now, the resistance was slowly starting, and it would need him. Cathy knew, too, and she knew the answer before he even gave it to her.

“You wouldn’t be happy, I wouldn’t be happy. The life of a buccaneer suits me, I can’t see being anything else. Were you and I different people, the answer would be yes, but we’re not.”

“I know that, I don’t even know why I ask! I wish I knew what was going on, at least when I stayed there news of Nassau was easily available; now I have no idea, except that Eleanor has gone over to the other side.”

Let’s see, she thought, what might be going on? Eleanor had regained the power she had lost, ever so reluctantly. Maybe a stay in Newgate had done her good. Max would desperately be trying to hold onto the power she’d gained but now was certainly close to losing. Maybe they would re-kindle their old friendship to the benefit of both. She herself had no interest in power, never had. All she wanted was the freedom to come and go as she pleased, live her life as she saw fit. It might be hard now. The fighting was sure to start any day. The pirates had lost Nassau and were desperate to get her back.

“I want to see my brother,” she said out loud, “I want to see Flint before I go, but I don’t know where he is. Do you have any idea, Billy? What is he up to, what are his plans? He’s a schemer, he won’t be content just to let things be.” She looked at Billy with her heart in her green eyes, “Please Billy, won’t you tell me what you know?”

“I can’t Cathy, there’s a war coming, and the less you know, no, the more ignorant of it you are, the better. I can try to get word to him, maybe get him to write a note to you, but I hope to have you on a ship before all hell breaks loose. He wanted me to look after you, make sure you were all right, and get you out of here and that’s what I mean to do. I know you Cathy, I know you have contacts here and in Nassau Town and you can find out where he is if that’s what you want to do. I’m only asking you to not try.


	34. Enemy Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woodes Rogers makes a confession to Cathy: He wishes it were here, not Eleanor. He loves her but is tired of Eleanor's sadness. Cathy tells him about the similarities and differences between Eleanor and herself. He repeats his offer of transport off the island and will book passage for her on a ship sailing to Port Royal the next week. Cathy is anxious about seeing Flint. If she does leave the Caribbean she does not know how long it will be before she sees him again. That night she and Billy make love, only to have him wake her up in the middle of the night, telling her that he is taking her to see Flint

There was a breeze this morning, if it kept up, there was a promise in the air that the day would not be so hot.

Cathy was riding Naya, intending to ride down the dunes and into the water. Naya had learned to love the water and the way it felt around her fetlocks and hocks. She’d found out the hard way that the waters of the lagoon were not good to drink, and tended to hold her head up as the waves splashed around her.

Cathy nudged her with her heels and the mare raced down into the water, rearing a little as the water rose around her. Cathy laughed and patted her, then rode to water’s edge, where she spied something curious. She leaned over Naya’s shoulder and saw hoof prints, fresh ones by the looks of it, in the wet sand. The horse was well shod and had come out of the water and walked along the beach.

“Woodes”, Cathy breathed, the hoof prints were big, and amongst the British, no one else rode such a big hunter. She decided to follow the prints and soon she came upon him. He’d dismounted and stood holding his hunter’s reins. He had a faraway look in his eyes, as if he were seeing past Nassau to a place that was visible only to his eyes.

She slid off Naya, and dropped her reins, knowing her horse was well trained and would remain where she was. She approached him carefully and laid a hand on his arm. “Woodes?” she asked softly  
.  
He turned and looked at her as if he did not know her, then pulled her close to him. He kissed her, gently at first, then hard before releasing her. He looked at her carefully, “No,” he said, “There’s no sadness in your eyes, is there?”

“No, I suppose not, but why? What do you mean?”

He sighed. “Every time I look into Eleanor’s eyes I see a woman defeated. There’s such a sadness there, such pain. You, you look as if you’d gladly take on the world and expect to win. I’ve met a lot of women, but no one like you. You love to laugh, and I never hear Eleanor laugh, I don’t even know what her laugh sounds like. Even when we make love that sadness seems to hover over our bed. And you with your indecent riding clothes splashing happily in the surf with your horse, and your silk dresses like flowers of every hue. Cathy, you didn’t know it, but I’d seen you before you even knew I met you.”

She took his hand and squeezed it. “I’ve known tragedy, too, you know, but I’ve also known triumph. I’ve done things I didn’t want to because they were a means to an end. I’ve lost people I cared about, but pirates don’t live long, do they? Unlike Eleanor, I’ve never been insecure, never had an inferiority complex. And I’m fearless. The only time I’ve been afraid was when Hornigold had me poisoned, but I told myself that I would survive and I did. Poor Eleanor,” she shook her head, “I don’t think she ever stood much of a chance without her father.”

“Hornigold had you poisoned?” this he had not expected.

“I think he was afraid I was going to interfere with his plans for Eleanor, so he decided to take care of me before I could. He had the bartender at the inn give me an overdose of opium. He almost succeeded, Ruby told me it was touch and go for a while for me, and that I’m lucky I’m alive. He’ll pay for what he did to me, I know he will. He’s overconfident and to try to murder Flint’s sister is going to bring down my brother’s wrath.”

Rogers smiled at her, at the sincere expression on her face, “You’re sure of this?”

“Yes,” she answered, unsmiling, “Ruby told me he will meet his end when he thinks he has made his triumph. Otherwise, I’d kill him myself.”

He put his arm around her waist, kissed her again, “Come with me Cathy, just for a little while, if you’re willing. I want you Cathy, I want to make love to a woman who has a smile in her eyes, just this once.”

She allowed him to lead her up into the fall grasses of the dunes. He laid her down and pushed up her skirts and opened her blouse. Unlike Eleanor her skin was a pale gold and he wondered how it came to be that way. She didn’t resist him, helped undo his trousers and unbuttoned his shirt.

“I had no idea just how beautiful you were, Cathy, I could only guess until now.

They made love in a hurry, each eager to have the other. He was taking longer for this ride than he should, and wondered if Eleanor would guess, then Cathy gave him her glorious smile, and he knew it would be worth it.

He smiled, the easy smile of the aristocrat. “I was hoping it would be you, you know, not Eleanor. I wanted you to know that.”

She lay next to him, pressing herself against him. “Woodes, you wouldn’t want me, I’m far too independent. I don’t need you, Eleanor does—though she didn’t used to be that way. All I really want is a port to sail to so I can decide where to go next.”

“So, Eleanor used to be like you?” She could not read the look on his fact, was he making fun of her?

She took a deep breath, “When Richard left her and went into hiding she was on her own. At first she was very uncertain, scared even, but Scott was there to help her and she knew a little about what her father did. It took time, but she figured it out, and even discovered that she was good at what she did—even better than her father. I never understood why he left her, what he thought she would do, but she persisted and didn’t give up and it paid off. Then Vane killed her father and Hornigold had her arrested—that would take a lot out of anyone.”

“And she’d received a death sentence,” Woodes added, “I’m sure she was scared, maybe for the first time in her life?”

Cathy nodded. “She and I are, or were, a lot alike, only I never had the ruthless streak that she did. But she’s changed, she’s learned to let you take care of her, she needs you.”  
“But you don’t need me to take care of you, too?”

“No, truly, but thank you for wanting to. When I ran away from home, away from my impending marriage, Flint appointed himself my caretaker. On my voyage here I had Gates and Billy Bones looking after me, too. I know what my brother is, believe me, but as his little sister, I couldn’t ask for a better brother.” She closed her eyes, was silent for a moment. “If it hadn’t been for Lord Thomas Hamilton and his bitch wife,” her eyes started to well with tears which he wiped away with a finger, “My brother’s career had so much promise and it was gone in an instant. I asked Lord Ashe if I consented to go through with the wedding, would he help my brother, but he said no. And to think they were once friends!”

“And so you ran and came to Nassau.”

“Yes, I did, but my world was shattered and Eleanor helped me put it back together. I had my brother back—mostly—Richard Guthrie had taken a shine to me and I went to work for him. Eleanor didn’t have much of an education, but I’d been convent educated and James was always giving books to read. It’s kind of a tipsy life, but I had a place where I felt like I belonged. Now I don’t know where I fit in, so I’m leaving. I like the idea of hiding out in Port Royal for a month or two, then sailing to Europe. Maybe Paris, maybe Rome. Anywhere but here and all my memories.  
”  
She hadn’t mention Vane, and he was grateful. Neither she nor Eleanor had said much about him. How two such exquisitely beautiful women had been caught up in the web of Charles Vane was beyond him. If he was curious, he could ask, but he found himself not wanting to know.

He stood up, held out his hand and she took his, allowing him to help her stand. “Cathy, I do need for you to leave. I don’t think I could remain faithful to Eleanor if you’re around, you are far too much of a temptation. I can get you on a ship to Port Royal next week. I’ll give you letters of introduction, I’m sure that once they meet you, no party will be considered complete if you’re not there. But you must stay away from your brother or any of the other pirates that haunt Nassau, I can’t guarantee your safety if you don’t.”

So that’s what he wants, she thought, get me away from Nassau and him. If Billy can’t find a way for me to see Flint, I’ll do exactly as he suggests. She took his face in her hands and kissed him gently. She smiled and patted his cheek.

Suddenly she desired to see Paris and see the handsome French privateer. She sighed remembering his hands and how it felt when he loved her. She’d run away from him once, but maybe she’d get a second chance.

She brushed the sand from her skirt. “I wish we could do this more, but you’re right, this has to be the last time. In spite of our differences, we would have made a good match. I don’t have Eleanor’s business acumen, but I do well with people. Ruby says it’s a gift I have.”

“Ruby Marie? Who is that?”

“She’s the old obeah woman who sells her herbs and charms in the market. She was the one I got the herbs from to treat your fever. Make sure your soldiers treat her well, she’s an asset, she’s canny, she knows everyone in Nassau, and she can cure just about anything. She never cared much for Charles, but told me she wasn’t worried about me, that I’d see through him in time. She was born in Dahomey, that’s where the most powerful witch doctors come from. That’s what she told me anyway.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“Then she’s the one I have to thank for my recovery?” he asked.

“Yes, and Eleanor for having the good sense to listen to me and use the herbs I brought for you. Ruby’s the best midwife on the island, too. We’re lucky to have her.”

He stood and took her in his arms one last time, and kissed her. “I wish it had been you, Cathy, I don’t think I’d ever be sad around you.” He lifted her on her horse, and she rode away. He watched and wondered if he’d ever see her again.

Cathy rode at top speed back to Nassau. She handed Naya impatiently over to the groom, then went to the house where Billy had been hiding out. She sat at the table, idly leafing through sheets of paper, reading a little of one, setting down another.

“Cathy!” he kissed her affectionately, “I don’t suppose you have something useful to tell me?”

“No, except that Woodes Rogers almost expressed his undying love for me. That could be a good thing for us, but he’d only be disappointed in me. He’s going to book passage for me to Port Royal, I’m to sail next week. He’s going to send some letters of introduction with me, so that may come in handy. Is there any word from my brother?”

“No, he’s staying on the island with the maroons. I guess Silver has fallen in love with one of the girls, very lovely she is, the daughter of the queen.” He looked at her intently to see if this elicited any jealousy.

If so, he was disappointed. “Someone should tell her not to trust him. Maybe she’ll make an honest man of him, but I think he’ll always have a roving eye. I want to see my brother, Billy, I don’t know when I’ll have a chance to see him again. I’m going to Europe from Port Royal, maybe with a stop in Boston, depending on which ship I sail on. I miss him, Billy, I don’t want to take any unnecessary chances, but I miss him.”

“Billy, I don’t want to give Flint away, and I know we’re being watched, but I want to see him. Could someone take me there at night? I may not see him for a very long time, and I know that Flint’s a bastard, but he’s my brother and I love him.” An idea came to her, “How closely are they watching the Pearl? If we sailed from there would anybody notice?”  
He shook his head, “I don’t know. Why don’t you go up to the brothel and have a bath like you normally do in the morning? And while you’re there, see if you can find out any news? You’re a pretty girl, men get loose-tongued around pretty girls.”

“Before Max reins them in. I’m sure she only has her loyal girls servicing the soldiers. If I hear anything I’ll let you know, but I imagine Idella can find out more than me. Is Max on to her, do you think? It’s hard to keep secrets in a place like Nassau, and I’d hate to see her swinging from a noose.”

As was her habit these days, Max was busy so Idella took care of Cathy’s bath. “Tell me, Idella,” she asked her, “How closely do they watch people coming to and from the island? I want to see my brother, but I don’t want anyone to follow me or hinder me from leaving. I’m going to take ship to Port Royal next week, and I don’t have much time.”

“I don’t know,” she answered softly, “There was a group of slaves that attempted to escape, and they were shot before their boat even got in the water. You want to go that badly, have Billy take care of it. He’s keeping a close eye on things these days. You want to leave, you let Billy help you.”

But what if Billy won’t? She thought. Billy had stepped into Flint’s shoes and taken on the role of her caretaker. But she didn’t need one, what she needed was to see her brother before she left. She didn’t know how long she’d stay in Europe, and she couldn’t bear to not have a chance to say goodbye.

She and Billy made love that night, and she went to sleep curled up on his arms. Feeling safe, as he’d always made her feel. So she wasn’t prepared for him shaking her awake, holding a lantern so it shone in her face  
.  
“Cathy, we must hurry. I’m taking you so see your brother.”


	35. Shipwreck Island--re-write

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy wakes Cathy in the middle of the night, telling her that her brother has summoned her to the island where he is hiding. They have a long anticipated reunion, and Flint tells her of his fears for her, and that he is afraid something might happen and he would never see her again. She also sees Silver, whose manner is welcoming, but distant, and she knows their time is over for good. Billy tells her she should leave Nassau, because war is coming and things will never be the same

This is a re-write of the last chapter I wrote, but by the time I realized what I’d done, I knew that the chapter wasn’t finished to my satisfaction. I changed the title, also, though it’s not much of a change. I like the chapter better now, it seems more complete

Chapter 35: Shipwreck Island

She put her hand in front of her eyes to shield them from the lamp he held. “Billy! What? How?” She stood up and grabbed her robe, “When did this come about?”

“He sent me a message, I just got it. There are things happening, Cathy, things you don’t know about. Your brother keeps things close to his chest, but he must have decided that he wanted or needed to see you. You’re to pack a small bag, with enough things to last you for a few days, and only that.”

“I’m bringing my chest, too, I’ll not leave that here. I’ve got to see to my horses, if I’m gone too long without funds to care for them, I may lose them.”

“Give me some money then, and I’ll see it gets to the stables. You’re an awful lot of trouble Cathy, you know.”

“Yes, I do.” She was busily stuffing clothes into her portmanteau. She’d keep her cashbox with her, and someone could row the chest in a separate boat. This was making her uneasy, after all this time, why had Flint suddenly decided that he wanted to see her? This did not bode well, and she was worried about him. He should have stayed at the Pearl, she decided, they’d be close and able to reach each other at a moment’s notice. This distance between them distressed her.

“Is the back entrance locked? It leads to the alley, but sometimes they keep it locked to prevent customers from leaving without paying their bill. If so, we should break it and go out that way. There’s too traffic to leave from the front. So many people come and go here that maybe no one would pay attention, but I don’t want to take chances.”

“It’s already taken care of. I have men waiting to take your chest down to the boats. The moon’s half full, which means some cover and light to steer the boats by. The men know the way, so we won’t get lost. Now, for God’s sake Cathy, hurry.”

She threw one last pair of slippers into her bag. Billy would leave money for the landlord in case there was a problem with the room. She didn’t know what was going on. At first Flint had told her to stay in Nassau until she could take a ship to Port Royal, and now she was being transported in the middle of the night to God only knew where. Where she was concerned, however, Flint generally had a reason for what he was doing. And she missed him. There were times when they hated each other, but never for long. They were too much alike, and it drew them closer, or made them want to kill each other.

 

Someone had thoughtfully piled rugs in the prow of the boat, and they’d provided her with cloaks to shield her from the chill of the night. She fell asleep to the sound of the oars splashing, and the hull of the boat skimming gently through the water.

She woke to find herself in a sunny room, with open air windows and woven palm mats on the floor. She sat up and stretched, feeling unexpectedly refreshed. How long had she slept anyway? Someone must have carried her here, but she had no memories of it. She’d been tired but surely she hadn’t slept during the whole journey.

“How are you feeling?” Flint set down a plate of food he was holding and held his arms out. She ran to him, not caring that she was behaving like a young girl instead of a woman grown. Lord how she had missed him!

He’d cut his long hair off—it was cropped close to his head and she was not sure she liked it. He beard was still there, rich and full, well-trimmed. There were more lines in his face, from worry and care—hopefully she had not been the cause of some of them, but she knew he’d gladly forgive her if they were.

“Oh, Flint, I’ve missed you so much!” They stood quietly as he rocked her in his arms. Theirs was a strange bond, one that few besides themselves understood. In his presence she always felt safe, protected. It was too bad that Eleanor had had no one, if she had, maybe there would have been no Charles Vane, and she never would have seen the inside of a prison cell, and wonder how much longer she had to live  
.  
“Eat,” he commanded, acting like the older brother looking out for an irresponsible younger sister. He led her to the table where the plate of food, hot and steaming, waited. “It’s yams, eggs, and fruit. I know you like coffee, but you’re going to have to settle for small ale. No bacon or ham for now, but it’s almost ready to come out of the smokehouse. There’ll be fish for dinner, depending on what they caught. We’ve been keeping a lookout for English ships, we expect them any day.”

“I haven’t been paying much attention to what’s going on, I’m sorry for that. When Woodes first arrived it seemed a sort of relief, I didn’t even really consider what it would mean to the island. Selfishly, I thought only about leaving. I don’t know who told him, but he knew I was your sister, so someone must have. You were gone, and I knew that eventually I would have to leave, but I just didn’t want to deal with things. Then Eleanor turned up, Woodes Rogers took her in, and when the chance arose she had Charles Vane hung.”

“She what?” Flint put down his mug of ale, disbelief showing on his face. 

“Vengeance for her father, you know. Charles was stupid, he killed Richard Guthrie to get even with her for freeing Abigail Ashe. Up until then I hadn’t quite tired of him, but killing Richard Guthrie was too much. Those games they were playing--ultimately she thought she won, but instead she paid a heavy price. I’m tired of Nassau, tired of pirates with the exception of you and maybe a few others. I’m no longer willing to stay in the islands and be a spectator to all of this. I’m sailing to Boston, then try to catch a ship to France and look for my privateer. If I can’t, well, he’s not the only man in the world.”

“To England, perhaps?” a small smile played across his mouth, he was playing one of his favorite games—seeing how easy it would be to bait her.

“NO! And not funny, not funny at all. Italy, maybe, or Constantinople, maybe I’ll visit Athens and see the Acropolis. But Paris appeals to me the most, I love it above all the other cities in the world. I’ll bank the rest of my money in Paris or Genoa and then decide where I want to go.”

“Just stay away from Nassau. There’s a war coming, Cathy, the English want to reclaim this island and won’t stop until they succeed. Nassau is no longer a place where gentlemen of fortune can be safe, and I won’t be a slave to the crown.”

“Like I won’t be to a husband,” she replied, “We’re not made for bondage to anyone, you and I. I’m surprised you lasted with Miranda for so long.”

He put his arm on her shoulder, “I know you didn’t like her, but believe me, we were more suited than you think. It will be a long time before I fall in love again, Cathy.”

She decided to change the subject. “Tell me, brother, why am I here? I wanted to see you, but accepted that it might be a long time, or maybe never. When you tell me to do something, I don’t question, you’ve never steered me wrong. Why have you changed your mind?”

“Because even I have my fears. I have worried that I might not see you again, I am not immune from bullets or the hangman’s noose. I wanted to see you, if only for a few days. I also fear what Rogers might do, I had a nightmare about him imprisoning you because of me, that I could not bear. I’ll get you out of here before they invade. I feel better having you here.” He turned and smiled at her, that old, familiar smile she loved, “That’s all. I simply wanted to see my sister.”

There were footsteps and someone entered the room. She put her hand over her mouth, not wanting to give herself away. Silver stood before her. He looked the same, or maybe even better. His limp was less noticeable—maybe they’d treated it and for once he had listened to someone’s advice. Was it the woman? Hadn’t Billy said that Silver had a girl now?

“Cathy,” he looked at her, flushed an unbecoming red. It was awkward for them both. “Ahem, Madi—the daughter of the queen of the island—she wants to meet you. I said I’d ask, but I was sure you would.”

She took a deep breath, forced a smile onto her face. “Yes, it would not be polite for me not to. You’re looking so much better—how is your leg?”

“It’s better, the native healers are very good, and I waited until I healed before I went back to using my leg.”

Flint had not been aware of her liaison with Silver and evidently still had no knowledge of it. “Silver has someone besides me that he will listen to now. He resisted long enough, but came around. You’ll like Madi.”

“The only thing I am concerned with now, brother, is whether there is someplace for me to bathe, and then I want to change my clothes. This has all happened so quickly that I almost feel dizzy. I hope I am safer here than I was in Nassau, but there is nowhere now that feels safe.”

“Madi can help you with that,” Silver answered, “I’ll bring her by later.” He paused, kissed her chastely on the cheek, “It’s good to see you, Cathy. We’ve missed you.” He left the room and Cathy exhaled noisily.

“Madi, so that’s her name,” she said softly, “And all along I thought it might be Max.”

“What was he to you? Surely nothing,” Flint demanded, “Cathy you are better than him, and you know it.”

“And nothings are who have I been with since I came to Nassau. Vane, Low, Silver, Billy. My privateer in Paris was a step up, but scratch the surface and a privateer is nothing more than a pirate. Yes, my standards have fallen far short, but who else has been here? What you want from me is no less than I want for myself, but I am a woman who likes men, and I don’t apologize for it. You had your Mrs. Barlow, and I had no taste for the men she wanted to¬ introduce me to. I prefer my scoundrels. I’ve grown up, brother, but you still see me as a child.”

“That is not likely to change. Your portmanteau is here; you have your clean clothes.” He took her face in his rough hands, and kissed her gently on the lips. “I forget how self-reliant you’ve become. We’re adaptable, we Flints, always have been.” He ruffled her hair and left her to herself.

She was surprised that seeing Silver had had such an effect on her. She had always thought of him as a pleasant companion in bed, and enjoying his company as she did a pleasant bonus. She’d deeply loved Charles Vane, even when she did not understand why, but there had been something special about John Silver that had gotten under her skin in a way she did not expect.

Billy was different. She had known Billy since she first came to Nassau. Billy was the kind of good friend she could always rely on. Billy had sense, Billy was not the reckless buccaneer that Silver was. Billy had and would always protect her, but that’s all it was. Familiarity had made them fall into bed together, but that’s all there was to it. She loved Billy, even desired him, but did not want him.

He ducked into her room as if he knew she was thinking about him. “Are you all square, Cathy? Are you all right?”

“Yes, but things have happened a little too quickly for me.” She went over to the window and looked out. “It seems strange here, yet familiar. Like one of the plantations that I’ve visited, only without white overseers. Do you know how long this has been here?”

He came over and put his arm around her shoulders. “No, but Scott would know. No, would have known,” he corrected himself, “There are a few places like this, hard to find, out of the way islands where runaway slaves have taken refuge. Scott’s widow has had the running of this place for a long time now. They go to great lengths to protect themselves, even to murder.”

“Do you blame them?” she pulled away from him, “If the English find them, it’s back to the cane fields for them. No more freedom, just misery until the day they die.”  
“Ah yes, and you’re the one who compares marriage to slavery.”

“For the woman, yes. After we marry, our property, our children, and our money is no longer our own. Husbands can beat wives, rape them, imprison them and the law will do nothing for them. All I had to do was look at Peter Ashe and know that was not what I wanted. I’m slave to no man, and I intend to keep it that way. Pirates aren’t the only ones who don’t want to be enslaved.”

“You remind me of a smarter, better looking Anne Bonney. Until I met you, I couldn’t imagine that a lady would renounce the comfort and security that a good marriage would bring. You, Eleanor, Anne: none of you are slaves to convention.”

“But look what’s happened to Eleanor! Sometimes I think I was the one who could deal with Charles Vane.”

“Even though he beat you? I still remember your face, Cathy, the bruises, the split lip and black eye. If I remember rightly, you were ready to kill him, you’d even found a pistol.”  
“Yes, and I have you to thank for the fact that I didn’t. I learned a lesson from that, never be afraid to rely on a friend when you’re in trouble.” She kissed him and hugged him around his slender waist.

“Yes, and when I sent you to Cuba I had no idea that you’d pull the stunt that you did—and that you’d get away with it. You could have wound up with your neck in a noose.”  
“Well, I learned from the best how to avoid that fate. I’ll never again have anything to do with Spain and Cuba, but I’m a rich woman now.”

“Cathy, get back to Nassau as soon as you can, and take a ship—to anywhere, unless you want to live under English rule. When we tell you it’s time to leave, you leave, and no argument. War is coming and someone will no doubt alert the English to this island’s existence. You be sure that you’re as far away from here as you can get before the shooting starts. Don’t depend on Eleanor to be your friend, you don’t know what her motives are. Likewise, Woodes Rogers, he could use you as bait to catch your brother if you’re not careful. These are dangerous times and I want nothing more than to see you away from here.”

“Billy, I’m not sure I can, not yet anyway. I slept with Woodes Rogers…”

“What?” Billy was surprised and a little angry, “Does Flint know? What were you thinking?”

“I was out riding, and he found me, or I found his horses hoof prints and followed them. Face it, Eleanor is beautiful and alluring, but she is just a shadow of who she used to be. The ordeal in prison, the death of her father, it’s taken a toll on her. The impetuous, headstrong Eleanor is gone. She seems so sad now, like the weight of the world is on her shoulders. He saw me and remembered what it was like to be around a woman who was happy and carefree. Things happened, Billy; remember, we’re linked by friendship. You don’t love me, you just like me—as I like you.

He circled her waist with his strong arm, “Yes, Cathy,” he said, “I like you very much, and sometimes I wonder if there could be more, but we are the wrong two people.”

“That is what I’ve always known, no wonder we get along so well.” She looked up at him, an earnest expression on her face, “I’m thinking that I should stay here, help with the resistance any way I can. Maybe I can go back and forth between sides, just like I did in Cuba.”

He pushed her away from him, forced her to look at him, “And wind up with your neck in a noose? No one knew you in Cuba, everyone knows you here. Eleanor and Max wouldn’t trust you for an instant, even if you could fool Woodes Rogers for a while. No, there’s too much risk for you to do that. And Flint would never consent.”

“He has nothing to say about it, nor do you. But you may be partially right. For all intents and purposes, I’ve disappeared from Nassau, that may arouse suspicion enough. But there was one thing I was thinking, who do the English hate most at the moment?” She paused, waiting for him to answer, “The French, of course. What if I could persuade some of the French privateers to help the resistance? The privateers are no longer employed by the king, and I am sure that some of them are desperate for some fighting, and some pay. Getting the ships may be a problem, but may not be impossible.”

“You’re flirting with disaster, Cathy, you know that of course. Don’t be rash, think this over, carefully. We could use the allies, but don’t expect that the French can or will be trusted. Please just go somewhere for right now and think—don’t act, think. If I thought that turning you over my knee and spanking your bare bottom would help, I would, but I’d end up fucking you.”

She looked at him and smiled. “Oh, so you think that would help? The spanking, not the fucking.”

He took her shoulders and shook her—hard. “Listen to me, there’s a lot at stake. Nassau is not really your home, isn’t that what you always tell me? You’re rash, you like to take chances, you’re too much like your brother. For once in your life, Cathy, do the smart thing.” He turned and left, because he wanted her very much, but it was not the time or place. Cathy drove him to madness and he needed to get away.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't been able to figure out why this story has the most kudos and of my three best, the least amount of hits. Any ideas? Please enlighten me LOL!


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